


Fallen Angel Arc

by VellichorNights



Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VellichorNights/pseuds/VellichorNights
Summary: During the Campania-incident Ronald is taken hostage by Undertaker.





	1. Chapter One

``

  _Cover art by[YashamariMizu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YashamariMizu/pseuds/YashamariMizu)_

 

It was very troublesome for Ronald to get back on his feet. He tried to ignore the piercing pain which seemed to flood his body. His limbs protested forcefully against every movement and the young reaper felt like there was no bone left in his body which wasn’t broken, or at least horrible bruised.

“Damn demon!” Ronald hissed pressingly while the gaze of his chartreuse eyes jerked to said demon. Sebastian seemed to have forgotten the blonde reaper already and was now gone back to attack the Undertaker with his silver knives.

Breathing heavily, not sure whether from the exertion or from the effortless try to ease the pain somehow, Ronald struggled to stabilize his position. He used the grasp of his death scythe to lean onto. But the strength had already disappeared from his hands and arms, forcefully trembling from exhaustion. The blond-haired reaper felt the steadying support of his death scythe, his modified lawnmower slipping from his hands. The next moment his body slumped to the side without the ability to avert. Ronald saw himself already hitting the ground, stiffed in anticipation of the fierce pain which was awaiting him when he would thud the hard parquet of the sinking ship.

Suddenly he felt his plunge halted, two strong arms closed around his shoulders. Ronald couldn’t suppress a short, quiet cry when the brisk grip startled the pain again.

“Oh my! How are you looking, Ronnie,” Grell muttered. „This isn’t an appropriate company for a lady!” Groaning the younger reaper rolled his eyes and frowned a little. At least the vigorous redhead was careful with him when he put an arm of her mentee around his neck in order to sustain him.

“You…d-don’t look… be-better… senpai…” Ronald choked between panting and laboured breaths. This condemned demon! It wouldn’t had needed so much and violent beats to sideline him. Just as a footnote, not that the demon had minded.

A frustrated hiss left his lips. It really wasn’t fair! He could bet that Sebastian hadn’t held back on purpose. The wide grin which had exposed long, sharp fangs, the mischievous and sinister expression in the crimson eyes had been clear enough.

“Honestly, senpai!” complained the fair-haired male with a reproachful sideglance to his mentor. “What do you see in that… demon! I’ll probably unable to move without pain for weeks…”

Grell, despite in no better condition, throwed his long flaming red hair back with a graceful movement and showed a wide predatory grin to him. The intimidating effect of this expression was lessened due to the dark blusterous at the right eye, the thin trickle of blood dropping from the corner of the mouth and several cuts across his checks. Nevertheless, the sharp, razor-like teeth would be enough to scare the most humans away.

“Ahhh… so brutal… so cold… just as my darling Will! You’ll understand some day, my cute, innocent Ronnie!” Grell raved, ecstatically closing her eyes with the long false lashes – which seemed to be due to some miracle only a little messed up.

“What could be honestly better than the passionate heat of the fight… the rough collision of two blades… and finally the overwhelming relief which floods your senses when you eventually draw the body of the other all over red with your death scythe… wonderful red – ahh, just to think about…! Arg!” Grell stared at him indignantly when Ronald cut of the infatuation with a sharp hit of his elbows to the ribs.

The redhaired shinigami pouted. “No reason to be jealous.”

“You can’t be serious…” he mumbled quiet and shook his head, gently because every severe movement caused new waves of pain. At moments like this he was seriously tempted to consent with the general opinion about the flamboyant redhead which circulated among their coworkers.

“Grell-senpai! We really don’t have the time for… such stuff,” he urged with an anxious look to the fight that was still going on straightforward to their eyes. Neither the demon nor the retired reaper seemed to have gained the upper hand, but Ronald thought Sebastian at a disadvantage.

After Undertaker had previously used Ciel to outsmart the contract-bounded demon Sebastian seemed to be reserved of leaving his masters side. That hindered his mobility and took some opportunities to attack his opponent away. Undertaker whereas wasn’t shy about using this to his own advantage.

Ronald stared at his blood-covered hands indecisively, then looked at his death scythe, which was eagerly placed beside him. “We… we should intervene, shouldn’t we?” The idea of fighting with his horrible aches… Ronald didn’t know how long his body could bear his struggles. He wasn’t even able to stand without the support of his mentor!

“Exactly! Clever boy, Ronnie!” Grell fluted in his high-pitched voice exuberantly, as everybody was used from him. But Ronald, who was close enough to the dangerous spitfire, saw the concern flickering across the chartreuse eyes, just for a brief instant.

“We can’t allow this renegade to get away, nor can we just watch my dear Sebas-chan and this troublesome brat to get the jump on us and catch him. This geezer has broken to many laws and rules of the reaper society, therefore-“

“Therefore, he is ours!” Ronald finished the sentence. As quick as his injuries allowed he unlocked himself from the propping grasp of Grell and started up his death scythe. Grell at his side raised his own scythe, powered up his chainsaw.

With an enthusiastic “Let’s go!” he threw himself on the opponents, Ronald followed close after. At least Grell skipped his usual suggestive and lascivious comments. Even if he generally found those comments rather amusing this was definitely not the right situation for.

Undertaker concentrated his attention on the two reapers when he heard the loud thrum and drone of the motors echoing through the night while he simultaneously parried the knives the demon had thrown on him with his death scythe. It was just ordinary silver, no menace to a shinigami like him und meant nothing more than damage caused by a needle. But the knives were sharp, and he was intended to spare himself from the troubles of pulling the “needles” out of his body later.

His eyes briefly darted to the two reapers, estimating within in less than a split second the possible movements and attacks. He gave a quiet irritated click with his tongue. The fight yet lasted a while and he slowly got bored. Besides, it was time to leave. There were things to take care of since his funny little experiment had turned this way. Undertaker decided to put this to an end and bolt afterwards. Enough with the games.

He didn’t wait for the chink of the knives dropping down on the floor but turned with a blazing fast move. He spun in a circle around his own axis, guided his death scythe with him while he did so. The very next moment he already heard the surprised outcry coming from the redhead, who was barely able of avoiding the legendary reapers death scythe. Undertaker didn’t care, now occupied with fending this peculiar scythe of the blonde reaper, who assailed him from above. Death scythe met death scythe and while the strident, inconvenient sound of sharp blades, scratching on metal distracted the younger shinigami for a wink, Undertaker used the opportunity and pulled away his opponents footing with a swiftly and well-placed kick.

The boy immediately lost his balance, toppled forwards and nearly made an acquaintance with the sharp, deadly blade if Undertaker hadn’t retrieved his Death Scythe yet. It’s not that he had wanted to spare the little reaper from death but to plainly block the further assault of the demon.

“Tze tze… Attacking while your foe has turned his back on you… No manners after all… You really picked an imprudent butler, little earl!” He just couldn’t restrain from teasing the small boy with the way too bit big title Earl Phantomhive.

“A deserter is going to teach me some etiquette?” The demon gracefully landed behind him and light-footed stepped back, beyond the range of the silver haired reaper’s scythe. Hmm… he should give him credits for doing this in a nice airy way despite the terrible wound Undertaker had caused when he impaled the demon with his death scythe releasing his cinematic record. “Rather hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“Oh, but I never pretended to be honourable or even to have an interest in behaving decent. Fair play is nothing I could think of as amusing.” With a sloppy movement he stepped aside, just the moment Grell attacked.

Ronald, still trying to get back on his feet, watched with wide eyes the retired reaper reaching out for Grell when she scampered past him – and his mentor gripped at his collar, struggling in the grasp of the ancient shinigami.

Undertaker lifted Grell a little bit so that they were at eye level. Ronald couldn’t fail to notice how less the retired reaper seemed to be impressed by the teeth-showing, murderous expression of the redhead. If Grell had looked at him like that…

“You certainly agree with me, little one!” Undertaker stated with a wide grin to Grell who was trying to bash the deserter with his death scythe but remained to fail due to the other shinigamis avoiding. “It wouldn’t be much fun to play fair, wouldn’t it?”

Without waiting for a response Undertaker pushed Grell away, directed to Sebastian who stopped his attack out of instinct to catch the redhaired, nonconformist reaper. Ronald could see Sebastian stiffening at the surprise of his own unexpected reaction. Grell whereas didn’t hesitate.

Stunned Ronald watched Grell looping her Arms around Sebastian’s neck and pressing closer to the handsome demon. “My shiny knight!” Grell gasped excited. „Sebas-chan… I knew you…”

“Go away from me, Grell,” complained Sebastian, freeing himself form the grasp of Ronald’s passionate mentor rather vigorous and not a bit gentle. He pushed Grell away with a determined movement.

Grell pressed a hand against his chest, to his heart, and twisted her face in an agonised grimace. “Ahhh Sebas-chan! So cruel! You are braking a lady’s heart!”

Seriously?! If Ronald were in the position to get up, nothing could have stopped him from pitching over to Grell and slapping his mentor really hard into that beautiful face of him. There were at battle field right now! And Grell just had the nerves to flirt with Sebastian! Of all people…! A filthy, nasty, bloody demon!

Apparently, Sebastian’s former attack on him had caused much more damage than he had initially assumed, because when he tried to get up on his feet the pain was so fierce that he couldn’t breathe. Panting and shivering of anguish he laid at the ground and was forced to watch helpless Grell and Sebastian discussing with each other while Ciel stood in apart and examined the occurrence with this withdrawn and funereal glance.

Undertaker considered the further development of things rather with interest than with frustration. “Fascinating, this redhead…!” Who could have kwon that just one flamboyant redhead was needed to get rid of two opponents likewise? Well, to admit, he had supposed. This was the reason he had bumped the cocky reaper in Sebastian’s direction. But he hadn’t expected his strategy to work so outstanding.  
Sighting he lifted his death scythe and strapped the weapon on his shoulder. This scythe meant so much more to him than a mere tool. For a brief instant he thought of the way Grell and the young blonde handled their death scythes… Those reapers today! Didn’t know how they had to appreciate a death scythe.

It was the very best moment to bid his goodbye and take his leave. Since his pretty little experiment took this … unexpected… turn he would be busy with the attempt to lessen the damage for quite a while. Although he wouldn’t declare himself as a parade example of sanity he was well aware of the situation. He had broken too much rules. Dispatch would sick his little reapers on him and he would turn out to be the quarry again. Well, not as it bothered him. Dispatch wasn’t a problem at all. But he would have to lay low for a while and pause his experiments. How annoying! Not in the slightest way funny!

Ah! He remembered that there was something left he had to take care about bevor he could leave the sinking ship. Undertaker chuckled. “Literally…”

Grinning wide he tilted his head, let his glance slide upon all those present before got caught on the small, fair haired reaper. “Hmmhmm…”, he hummed thoughtfully, then nodded in satisfaction. “That will be good enough.”

Ronald sighted in frustration. They still had an assignment to settle! And if no one else did it so he would have to do. He didn’t care that every movement hurt like hell, making him feel like he had to vomit. Ronald wouldn’t do overtime just because of this fucking deserter and his moonstruck mentor. Definitely not!

“I hate overtime!” he murmured, barely audible.

With the last strength he could gather he lifted himself up, his arms and legs shacking. Ronald didn’t know how he managed it, but eventually he got to stand, halfway hanging over his death scythe and fighting to keep himself up at least somewhat. Damn it! Really, how bad could these injuries be!

“Come on, Knox” he muttered to himself whilst closing his eyes when a sudden short dizziness caught hold of him. “You will do it! You are far stronger than that!”

„Hihihi…!“ Undertaker suddenly giggled behind him. „Is there someone fairly overestimating himself?”

Ronald gasped in surprise, intended to turn around to the former reaper but he wasn’t fast enough.

Pale long digits closed firm around his upper arm when he was abruptly dragged back und pressed against a hard torso. A chocking cry left his throat and he immediately started squirming in the clutch of the other man. Ronald tried to break away but neither his body followed his instructions nor eased Undertaker his unyielding hold.

Al the sudden he felt the cold of metal against his throat, the edge of the deathly blade of a death scythe. Ronald tensed. Death Scythe… cut through everything… One wrong, improvident move and he would be dead. Ronald forced his body to remain absolutely calm, tried to keep his breathing low and consistent, to gain control over his racing heart. He was not supposed to panic!

He couldn’t prevent an anxious whimper leaving his lips and he trembled. Yes, he was a shinigami, a damn death god. A human was no match for him. But… this creepy geezer holding a weapon to his neck wasn’t a human as well. And said weapon was a fucking death scythe! Ronald hated it to have to admit it, but he was scared!

The injuries and the rapidly building panic started to claim their tribute. Even shinigamis wasn’t immune to exhaustion and distress. His vision began to grow hazy, not only due to the tears which were relentlessly running down his checks but also because of the growing dizziness. His body felt as if ready to fail him, letting his legs drop. If this was going to happen, when he collapsed, the death scythe cut through his throat…! No! He wasn’t supposed to die like this!

 

To be continued...


	2. Chapter Two

Undertaker sensed the little blonde trembling in his clutch. He could hear the hard, laboured breaths of the younger reaper, too rapid, too patchy. Something was wrong… The mortician frowned a little. The facial colour of the reaper had turned pale and he felt the small, slender body staggering. The blonde was going to lose his nerves and was at the direct way into a panic attack. Undertaker chuckled lowly. Now, he couldn’t let his little hostage lose control.

Ronald felt the firm grip of the silver haired man around his upper arm easing, finally disappearing completely. Suddenly the cold fingers were in his hair, twitching a little bit at the fair, tousled locks, almost playful. This confused Ronald enough to distract him from his fear at the moment.

All at once there were long, silver strands of hair, tickling against his checks, a cool breath trailed along his ear. Alarmed he tensed, teared his eyes open and didn’t dare to breathe. Undertakers quiet, gleefully giggle stroke above his heated skin and a desperate whimper left Ronald’s lips.

“Shhhh…” he heard the retired reaper whisper, so quiet nobody except of him could hear the mortician. “I have no intention to harm you.”

It took a moment for Ronald’s mind to understand. When he comprehended what the creepy shinigami had said he frowned. Certainly that… wasn’t something the odd geezer could have meant seriously. Why should he say that? He already had wounded him badly, some of the deep cuts and bruises on Ronald’s body were caused by the very man now assuring him he… he wouldn’t be going to harm him? So… it was a trap?

As if the silver haired shinigami had guessed his thoughts the movement of the pale digits with the long black nails changed slightly within his hair, was now more like a gentle, careful caressing. To his astonishment Ronald felt himself easing somewhat at this strange gesture.

“Don’t fight against me and do as I say” announced Undertaker, still quiet, voice almost tender. “Then nothing will happen to you.”

Ronald thought feverishly. What should he do? What could he do? There was no chance of breaking free from Undertakers gasp. If he moved… he would immediately have beheaded. And to be honest he was momentarily not in the condition for fighting. What would he lose if he relent now?

He took a few slow and conscious breaths. Once the air escaped his lungs his body relaxed a little more. Nothing. He had nothing to lose.

“That’s right” the undertaker murmured to his hostage. Finally, the blonde had given up. Undertaker felt the breathing of the younger reaper soothe, albeit it remained a little frantic and forced, the slender body stayed tensed up. At least he was no longer at the edge of a breakdown. Time to go on.

The attention of the three remaining attendants had switched to the blonde and the mortician since Ronalds cry.

“Ronnie!” Grells horrified shout echoed through the darkness of the night. The redhaired reaper made an attempt to rush up to his younger coworker but one sharp word from Undertaker was enough to make her pause.

“Stop!” Grell froze in the middle of the move, the chainsaw lifted to plunge violently at Undertaker. Dismay und open concern dazzled upon his features.

“S-senpai” Ronald gasped desperately. He had never seen Grell concerned like that for the sake of him. Ordinarily Grell was too intent on his own to worry a great deal about his mentee. Oh Grell… Ronald thought while the nauseating feeling of falling forced him to close his eyes.

“Just one more step and blondie there”, Undertaker shook the fair reaper to emphasize his words, firm but not painful rude “will soon need a nice little coffin.”

Grell throw a glance at him which exceeded the one, the flamboyant reaper had when he woke up in one of Undertakers coffins and found himself deadly offended by the mortician. To be fair, it wasn’t a lie at all. Grell hadn’t be a corpse then.

“Let go of my sweet Ronnie!” Grell cried, voice severe octaves higher than his usual artificial high pitch. “Don’t you dare hurting him!”

“Then you shouldn’t make me do it” Undertaker giggled. He was very pleased with the way things were running. His little hostage showed no more signs of fighting back, the redhead seemed really concerned about the wellbeing of his coworker and even the demon didn’t get ready to attack once the earl signalised him with a shake of his cute head to stay aside. “Since we are so tremendously agreeing to this point… Despite I wouldn’t consider my humble self an very busy man there are some stuff I need to get done. Therefore, I will bid you goodbye now and leave you to your own matters to worry about. Every attempt to get in my way or to follow me will result in this reaper losing the little head of him.”

An amused chuckle bubbled from his lips as he glanced down at the blonde curls straight in front of him. When he had touched the hair of the younger man recently he had noticed it was smooth and thick. The feeling of the soft curls cringing tenderly around his finger had been pleasant.

“Well? He has a very lovely little head. We don’t want me to relieve him from that, don’t we?”

For a few moments there was silence. Nobody spoke, nobody dared to move. The only noise was the creak and breaking of the ship steadily sinking and the distant, desperate cries of any passengers.   
It was Sebastian to finally spoke first. “What might it be, that you want?” the demon asked, pitch polite as usually, voice smooth and like silk. Only the cold, hard crimson eyes revealed how much the demon was despised to mess around with a shinigami.

“Oh, nothing you could grant me”, Undertaker chuckled, then turned to the read whirlwind of a reaper. “But you.”

“See, I really don’t feel like playing tag with a crowd of shinigamis. It would spoil my mood and is nothing but bothersome. Therefore, let me give you a little advice. I will take blondie as… let’s put it this way… a pledge. The whole Dispatch may chase after me, I’m fine with that. But if anybody who just looks like a shinigami – or have something to do with them –“ he added with a quick side-glance to the little Earl Phantomhive and his demonic lapdog “comes close to me, tries to assault and taints my mood, your endearing little friend will have to live no further second.”

Undertaker stared with his chartreuse shinigami-eyes at everyone present to make sure they knew this game was now up to him. Played on his terms.

“But… you can’t do that!” Grell screamed and looked as if he was ready to abandon his warning and rush upon him with her death scythe, to aid his coworker. How heroic, Undertaker taught in amusement. He raised an eyebrow, silently challenging the red reaper to dare it. After a short while he gave up and slumped down a bit. She made a nice, hopeless sight.

Ciel Phantomhive shrugged indifferently. “If it is not this time another chance will arise. I would be a poor player to not noticing it when my foe has the better chances. But you shouldn’t think that the game is over, shinigami!”

“Oh, it is certainly not!” Undertaker confirmed giggling. “We will meet each other again soon.”

Ronald had difficulties to remain conscious. He felt his mind repeatedly slipping away from him, gliding towards the tender Darkness luring him with sleep and oblivion. Desperately he clinched to his consciousness, too engaged with the attempt to stay awake he didn’t really understand what was going on around him.

He had heard Undertakers word but his clouded mind made it difficult to comprehend. Pledge… take away… Dispatch chasing after him… then… lose his little head. Gradually he conceited the meaning of these word to him.

He gasped for air panicking, every muscle in his body tensed up. “No!” he panted in exasperation. Throughout his veiled and staggering vision, he vaguely saw Grells silhouette where a bright red stain crossed his glance. Grell!

“Grell!” he gasped with choking voice, not knowing if he had spoken loud anyway or if the words were just forming in his head. “Don’t let him…”

Don’t let him take me away from you.

Undertaker had to withdraw his scythe quickly from the throat of the younger reaper when he lost consciousness, otherwise the blonde had just beheaded himself.

“Would be a shame…” Undertaker mumbled, to quiet to be audible.

Well, Blondie finally collapsed. Not that it would be inconvenient to him. He would have to take care of that later. For now, he was satisfied to change the position of the blonde reaper so that he was able to hold him without the risk of his – admitted – handsome hostage slipping to the ground.

“The ship… The ship is sinking!” The distant scream, suffused by panic reminded Undertaker that, as much as he had enjoyed encounter, the time to make his farewells has arrived. The subsurface quaked and straggled menacingly, creaked as if it could yield every moment. If this wasn’t a warning!

“Seems that we have to part now”, announced Undertaker and grinned wide. “I’m looking forward the next time!”

This very instant a fierce wave crashed upon the ship, straightforward the place they stood. Sebastian took care of the young earl, quickly grabbed his – way to – small master and got him out of the range of the forceful flood while Grell switched to a higher placed chimney with a great jump and an athletic flip.

Undertaker himself had took the flight as well when the wave cracked and had targeted a safer place. It happened as he was forced to avoid a further, following Wave with a flashover. He felt the chain with his lockets gliding from his neck, the slipped form his head and he knew it was to late. Since he held his death scythe in the one hand and the unconscious young man with the other arm there was nothing he could do.

For a brief moment he panicked. No! His precious lockets! Nobody, whether with soul or a starving beast longing to devour one, could comprehend what these lockets meant to him!  
But when he saw Ciel catching the chain und held them secure in his little hands he relaxed. Relived he exhaled, his signature wide grin returned to his features. Ciel and the lockets… Well… At least it had a certain irony.

“Earl…!” he screamed to Ciel. „I will leave this to you for the time being! Take good care of it!”

The creepy smirk softened to aa smooth, tender smile. A smile that nobody had seen on Undertaker for a quiet long time. The next words leaving his lips were almost affectionate.  
“These are my treasures.”

With this Undertaker turned away, didn’t mind Ciels outcry.

“Wait! Undertaker!”

There wasn’t time left for this. He raised his death scythe, tightened his grip so he would be able to lay enough strength and sway into the stroke. “Very well, earl.”

“I bid you goodbye!”

With these words he swung his death scythe, draw the weapon down and created the portal. He heard the clamour and the screams when the ship broke in two, torn by the energy he had used. Undertaker carried his unconscious hostage secure in his arms and let himself fall through the portal.

 

To be continued...


	3. Chapter Three

“This wasn’t a little bit exaggerated, wasn’t it” Undertaker questioned himself giggling when his feet crushed hard with the bumpy cobblestones, a freezing breeze caught his long black coat and it flap.

In a rush he banished his death scythe and checked over the environment with a quick glance. The dark, barely lighted alley in which he had emerged, was utterly abandoned. Very well. Nobody was there to notice him.

He swaggered a bit and had to stood still for a moment to gather himself. To create this portal, he had used more energy than it was usually needed for an ordinary portal. A transport over this distance, meant to be not traceable and powerful enough to cause a distraction… That was sufficient to make even a shinigami like him feel the consequences of the effort.

The mortician glanced down at his hostage. Still without consciousness. With a swiftly movement he rearranged the boy in his arms to carry him bridal style. The limp, lean body slumped against his chest, the head dropped aside away from him. Thereby a slim, pale nape was exposed.

The grin at Undertakers lips deepened when he taught about his long fingers gently sliding along the dainty shape of the defencelessly exposed throat and the vulnerable neck, feeling the blond shiver at this touch.

“Obvious not exaggerated” he announced pleased. But the grin vanished quickly from his features, concern sneaked into his glance the longer he regarded his hostage. Blondies body felt slight in a worrying way, he was barely able to track the breathing of the little one as much it had wakened. The younger shinigami seemed paler as far as Undertaker could judge. He had the impact, that the heat radiating from the motionless body was unusual.

During the fight he hadn’t treated the fair reaper not quiet with kid gloves, he know that he had caused rather dire injuries. But he was sur, no of the wounds he had inflicted were that fatal. Shinigamis were incredibly tough creatures. Yet still he carried a reaper in his arms which condition was, bluntly said, alarming.

Sure that neither the demon nor Grell would be able to follow the trace of the portal he left the alley behind. He couldn’t go back to his shop, which was at concurrently his home, for quite a while. During the last years it couldn’t be avoided that some reapers had come around in order to search for information.

Instead he took the way to his hideout which was only a few streets away. Undertaker had carried on a considerable effort in making sure there was no possibility to chase him down over there. Well, it wasn’t the first time he was on the run. Undertake just grew bored easily to keep still for long.

It didn’t take long until he reached the evidently abandoned and morbid townhouse. He left the front door, which was blocked up with planks, alone and went immediately to the hidden entrance at the backside of the building. It needed a little bit of a balancing act to pick the keys form one of the many pockets of his coat and to unlock the door without dumping down the blonde. Not that the sleeping beauty had noticed it but Undertaker rather wouldn’t cause further damage.

A dead hostage wasn’t of much use for him, in the end.

The furniture and the floor in the small rooms were somewhat dusty, the air stagnant. It’s been a while since he last had made use of his hideout. Without paying his surroundings any more attention he carried the blonde reaper over to the small bedroom und placed him carefully on the bed.

Then her rushed to the adjoining bathroom, fetched some bandages form one of the cabinets, filled a bowl with clean water and snatched a couple of towels. When he had gathered everything he would need he returned to his involuntary guest.

The bedroom was immersed in darkness when he entered since he hadn’t bothered to make light earlier. He laid the towels and the bandages down at the bed besides the blond male, set the bowl with the water aside at one of the flat cupboards. When this was done he inflamed the candles at the nightstand. He works quick and with experienced movements and was done within an instant. Though shinigamis had a rather good night-sight e would require the light to treat the injuries of the reaper.

Once the candles burned and the smooth, yellowish light flickered across the unconscious figure at the bed Undertakers brows jerked upwards. Sweat made the suddenly reddened face gleam, the mouth of the young reaper was slightly parted and the chest lifted and lowered in a forced, laboured way. Bewildered Undertaker brought a hand to the bond’s forehead. His eyes widened when he felt the heat radiating form the sweaty skin.

“Fever?” Undertaker mumbled. „But… how can that be… ?” Shinigamis got sick so rarely it was barely worth a mention. Besides the Thorns of Death and The Cold there was no illness a shinigami had to fear. Despite… he had heard rumours about some disease, called Hanahaki…

Curious Undertaker tilted his head. “Hm… What my it be you have done, my dear?” He looked at the limp body in front of him as if it could give him the answers to the odd state the blond was suffering.  
“Let’s see how old Undertaker can help you” he muttered, didn’t expected to actually receive a response from his patient. He always talked to the corpses which were brought to him while preparing them for their last and most important ceremony and had got used to his little soliloquies.

Undertaker wettened one of the towels and wiped carefully the sweat of the soft young reaper’s soft features, tied to cool down the heated skin. He was relieved to notice the feverish heat decrease a little bit, the laboured breathes go softer and ease after a while.

“Hm… the fever doesn’t seem to be such bad… but still odd…”

He moistened the towel again and laid it on the forehead of the leaper. It appeared as if it gave some relief, at least.

“Well, I will need to tend to your wounds as well” Undertaker announced, the familiar grin curled his lips.

“I’m afraid but I have to undress you.” Without further hesitation he started to remove the reaper from his shredded clothes, undresses him swiftly and efficiently due to the routine he had with this procedure.

When he finished unbuttoning the blond’s shirt he paused for a short moment to take the impression which presented itself to him in. “Perhaps I’m not sorry” Undertaker chuckled.

Blondie had a clean-limbed upper body, trough not really muscular it was formed in an appealing manner and slender. The few muscles were smoothly defined and toned. It was obvious that the handsome blond did his exercises regularly, supposedly it was a must if you took account of his heavy, clunky tool its form he had given his death scythe.

Undertaker continued to undress his young patient, removed the trousers und shoes till the blond laid at the bed in nothing more than his undergarments. The remainder of his body too was no disappointment at all, toned and contoured at just the right places. The sight of the small, lean body as it defenceless laid before him, distracted Undertaker for a brief moment from his basic intentions.

“This body of yours is just rather appealing, dearie. Not really a surprise I’d say. Your face is handsome as well.”

It wasn’t difficult to imagine the young reaper in an entirely different scenario. Beneath him for example. The blond would certainly look gorgeous, hair mused, lips parted in a silent scream of pleasure and desire filling those chartreuse eyes.

Undertaker shook his head vigorously. To pleasure and satisfy the needs of the once legendary now criminal shinigami wasn’t the purpose the young male was here. “How extremely deplorable… huh?”  
Undertaker murmured with a faint giggle. Albeit he saw no harm in letting a long finger slowly, playfully glide along the chest of the fair reaper, tracing the slender muscles.

“Hm… you are an exquisite creature, aren’t you…?” he hummed.

Undertaker was bothered to handle the wounds of the boy most carefully. He cleaned the deep cuts thoroughly before he bandaged them with care. Although his little hostage was unconscious the idea of causing the blonde more pain than absolutely necessary wasn’t not in the least pleasing.

The blond reaper was severely injured, just as he had assumed, but nothing what wouldn’t be healed within a week. Four wounds, deep gashes caused originated by his very own death scythe, had to be stitched up, one at his tights, two further cuts at his arm, one crossed his face. The face was affected the worst, stained all over dark and violet, tinged and strewn with numerous cuts. An especially long, gaping slash was running above his check, beginning at the temple and ceasing a very few millimetres away from the bridge of the nose.

“Brutal moron…” Undertaker hissed whilst treating the injuries with needle and thread. The demon really hadn’t shown any restraint at all when he had battered the blond reaper. “Honestly… How can anyone injure such a handsome face that…?”

As for his part he hadn’t any qualms either in fighting back, he didn’t hold back in combat if necessary. To claim he wouldn’t feel satisfaction and contentment when he vanquished an opponent or scored a hit, would make him a hypocrite. Undertaker was the nature to enjoy a rather good fight and could find it rather invigorating. But what the demon had done was not just disabling a opponent. Sebastian had followed his master’s order in an unnecessary painful manner. Had relished to harass the little blonde. Therefor he couldn’t gather any comprehension. To play with his pray… That was nothing more than torture.

But what was to expect from a creature crawled up from the deeps of hell than a reckless, decadent behaviour and to take delight in sadistic games. Even given that said creature was wearing a collar – currently.

Very well then. Thanks to the superb wound healing of the shinigami kind this injury would heal without leaving even a scar. The cut wasn’t caused by a death scythe but by the sharp cutlery the demon had used. Nevertheless, the healing process would take some time.

“Don’t worry, my dear. You are still a bonny lad” Undertaker giggled.

Once the wounds were properly treated Undertaker moved to a wardrobe at the corner of the bedroom. He rummaged through the clothing he was keeping there in case he had the delight of playing subject of a manhunt. Ever so compelling the sight of the nude reaper was Undertaker doubted the blond would be none too happy about that when he woke up. That certainly would evoke an interesting reaction and could be worth a good laugher, but Undertaker found himself in the mood to be a gentleman.

Of course the garments were too big for the reaper, Undertaker was evidently taller than the younger male. Eventually he picked a plain, loose shirt as well as cosy black pants. The should fit his ‘guest’ fairly.

Undertaker got over to dress the blond reaper. When he righted the upper body of the fair-haired male a little bit to slip over the shirt his eyes got caught at a further injury at the lower part of his back.  
“How could I have overlooked these?” Undertaker murmured shaking his head as he flipped over the young reaper carefully to his belly to have better access. “Do forgive me, my dear chap, but I have to-“ he furrowed and cut off, swallowed what he had intended to say.

This gash wasn’t from their little combat at the Campania. The skin surrounding the wound a noxious red, the injury itself swollen, the edges dishevelled and frayed as if torn open again just recently. Undertaker stretched out a finger to the wound, barely touched it. Bu yet he felt the heat radiating form the really bad injury.

“Heavens…” Undertaker mumbled sounding shattered. This was a nasty cut the lad had contracted! “Well, that explains the fever.” No wonder that the young male had lost consciousness! The wound had occurred most likely sever days ago and had caused the reaper dire pain since then.

No losing any more time Undertaker hurried to the main room which got for the living room and the kitchen as well. He kept various remedies and potions at a shelve. Mainly chemicals he used for his work or experimented with from time to time. Thoughtfully he tipped against his lips while his eyes rapidly scanned the variety of diverse jars and pitchers till he found what he was looking for.

He grabbed the jar with the antiseptic, cooling cream from the shelve and receded to the uncurious shinigami. The mixture had proofed itself in the past as useful and he hoped it would serve the purpose with the blond.

After he had carefully cleaned the inflamed wound, applied the balm and taped the injury with the remained bandages he touched lightly the forehead of the reaper. A content sigh escaped his lips. The fever hasn’t worsened, instead it seems to have slightly lowered, the blond felt colder to his touch somewhat.

Undertaker brought the blond into a position which he assumed to be more comfortable and covered the slim figure with a blanket. It seems that was all he could do for his handsome hostage for the time being. He presumed he had a few hours left before the blond would awake, so he decided to take care of the state of his hideout in the meantime.

At the doorframe shot a short glance back at the blond, allowed his eyes to slide along the delicately shaped features and the lean limbs. He taught about how the little ones had pounced on him without hesitation during the fight, called him geezer and insulted the demon as weak. The lad had remained attacking him though he must have endured horrific pain, barely able to move. This boy obviously didn’t know when he should better surrender.

“Hm… I think you will be much fun… little reaper” Undertaker chuckled and his grin deepened.

 

To be continued...


	4. Chapter Four

Ronald moaned softly and turned at his side. Every single muscle in his body arched ghastly and his head felt like had turned on his death scythe within his skull. Grumbling morosely he refused to open his eyes.

He tried to remember why he felt lousy like that, his body pulsed with pain. Had he had a little too much drinks at the pub last night? It wouldn’t be the first time he had a blackout after he had been boozing all night and was wretched at the aftermaths. Hm… but… he couldn’t recall having visited a pub yesterday… And usually a hangover didn’t… feel like that…

Something… wasn’t right… He groaned and forced himself to open his eyes. He frowned in confusion while his glance nervously darted across the room.

“W-what…?” Ronald mumbled, voice hoarse. “Where…?” He wasn’t in the bedroom of his little but cosy flat as he had been convinced at first. The furniture was complete unfamiliar to him trough he could see no better than blurred. His glasses! Where were his glasses!

Mechanically he began to hastily fumble around at the nightstand for his glasses, gasped quietly when this movement caused a piercing pain to rush through his arm into his shoulder. “Where… are my… glasses?”, he wheezed, teeth clenched.

“Right here.” His unsettled hand was suddenly grabbed and his fingers were closed around a familiar, black item. “Here you go.” Ronald jerked at the unexpected connection with the other’s hand. Who…? Slightly trembling he put on his glasses and poked hastily around for the other person.

His eyes widened when he saw the in loose, black layers draped person standing beside the bed. The Campania! The wandering corpses, bodies supposed be laying beneath the ground…

“You!” hissing in horror he scrambled backwards at the bed in a twinge of panic, just wanting to gain distance from the lunatic silver-haired male. Screaming from pain he doubled over, panning desperately. “Where… where are…?“

„Please, calm down. Hectic movements will only upset your wounds.” Undertaker stated soothingly und lifted his hands in a disarming gesture. When he was sure, the blond boy didn’t seem as if he wanted to attack him, he answered his question. “We are in London, at my hideout. Still the human realm. You will understand that I can’t tell you further details.”

Ronald surveyed the silver-haired shinigami warily. Undertaker was back wearing the dark robes of a mortician, his big hat covered the upper half of his face.

Ronald didn’t bother holding his voice down and yelled reproachfully at him “You abducted me!” After an irate glance and the reminder that it wouldn’t do good to his wounds if he made an assault on the older male right away, he added “Lunatic fiend!”

Chuckling Undertaker nodded. “I have. Couldn’t be avoided.” Ronald huffed in frustration. He averted his eyes from the deserter, laid his arms around his upper body hardly realising that he hugged himself in a helpless manner.

A shiver creeped over his body when he thought about what Undertaker had said at the Campania. About killing him. To… behead him. A hostage. That was what he was right now. He defencelessly clenched his fists, whimpered as the movement brought about more pain.

Undertaker watched the blond. It didn’t escape him when a shadow crossed the small features of the young male, he saw the clenching of his jaw und the tension creeping back into the slim body. It wasn’t difficult to guess the thoughts bothering the mind of the blond reaper.

“Could it be that you are scared?”

He heard a bitter, coarse laugh coming from the blond. “After you held your damn death scythe at my throat? After you threatened me, telling me you want to cut off my bloody head? And displaced me to who-know-where?” While the young reaper spoke he held his glance averted from Undertaker. His voice sounded frustrated but Undertaker could pick out the resigned, disappointed undertone which the reaper tried to hide. “You can’t blame me for being concerned… slightly.”

Undertaker giggled at the amusing wording of the younger male then returned to a little more serious behaviour. “I told you as well that I won’t harm you.” Blondie huffed and shook his head, refusing the mortician’s words, remained silent. The eyebrows of the mortician jerked lightly. Somewhat stubborn that reaper, it seems.

“Listen to me” Undertaker started gentle but determined. “You happen to be my hostage but I assure you I don’t intend to put an early, unscheduled end to your life nor will I hurt you. I won’t do anything that could harm you.”

“Said, till nobody get in your way, isn’t it?” Ronald grunted and still rejecting to look at his abductor. He just didn’t want to witness Undertakers grin growing wider, deepening at the sight of his pathetic captive, holding back a loud, wide laugher and inwardly mocking him. Ronald didn’t believe that he would be able to face it right now.

“I won’t deny it. As soon as anyone of your jolly coworkers does the wrong step forward I won’t hesitate to kill you. Pity, though. But I have no interest to be regarded as someone who goes back on his words.” Undertaker wasn’t shy in admitting this. He knew he just could lie to the blond and was confident he could make the little reaper believe him. But he didn’t want to do so. This way it would be much more entertaining. At least it was, what he ancient told himself.

“However, as long as it isn’t the case I won’t hurt you.”

The way the blond kept avoiding him, hugging himself without noticing it, was just too endearing. Undertakers smirk became wolfish and a cunning undertone creeped into his voice. “That is as long as you don’t beg for it…”

Ronald flinched and spun around to the retired reaper with eyes torn open. There was no misunderstanding of inflection. “Wha-what are you rabbiting on about!” he stammered and felt heat raising to his checks when he flushed. “Why should I want that!?”

He coughed slightly to get rid of the rough feeling in his throat. “However… There is no reason why I should believe you!”

“Oh!” Undertaker shook his head when he noticed the roughness of the blond’s voice. “I beg your forgiveness. There was I, chattering all over when your throat must surely be feeling rather awkward and raw.” He took the glass with water which he had prepared for the boy and had placed at the nightstand before and then totally forgotten. With an encouraging smile he handed it to the blond. Said one made no attempt to accept the glass, just starred at it warily.

Laughing in amusement Undertaker stated “It’s just water. I haven’t poised it, so don’t worry.” The blond remained hesitating but Undertaker kept patience and waited for the blond the give in. Finally, the young reaper sighted and carefully reached out for the glass.

Ronald was close to dying of thirst and his throat felt like sandpaper. He would simply have to risk it. When the water trickled down her throat cleanly and refreshing he felt somewhat better.

“Thanks…” he murmured reluctantly, passing the glass back to Undertaker.

With his signature grin Undertaker said “Don’t mention it.” Ronald started to gaze at the silver-haired shinigami in abstraction. With the hat leaving barely more visible than the chin and the mouth of the older male it was close to impossible to figure out what was going on in the head of the shinigami. Anyway, it wasn’t as if he could understand that insane, crazy thing of a mind.

“Regarding your earlier words… Obviously you have no reason to believe me and I won’t hold it against you I you don’t want to trust me, considering my latest actions.” Undertaker shrugged and made a dismissive movement of the hand. Nevertheless, he found himself not as indifferent as he pretended to be. He… actually wanted the little reaper to trust him – of his own accord.

“Why should I lie to you?”

Ronald tilted his head, frowning at this unexpected question. Now, thinking about it… “You wouldn’t get anything from it, aren’t you?” he humbled barely audible when he realized. He lowered his head and a few of his blond, gently curled bangs covered his eyes. “Because I’m your hostage. Dishonesty against someone who you already have your grip on and is at your mercy anyway would be wasted effort, I assume.”

To saw the young reaper suddenly upset like this affected the Undertaker somewhat. He felt the urge to comfort the younger one. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He sat down at the edge of the bed and placed a hand carefully at the shoulder of the blond. He felt the slim body immediately stiffen upper his touch, noticed the reaper got ready to break away from him. Undertaker waited for a moment but the blond never moved.

Ronald was surprised that he didn’t retreated form Undertaker promptly. The hand of the very man he fought with and lost, now holding him captive, was on his shoulder – and he didn’t push off. It would be a most natural reaction. But Ronald hesitated. It… felt pleasant. The older male didn’t use much pressure, his grasp was barely noticeable. Even so… Ronald felt somewhat comforted by this touch.  
Well… It possibly couldn’t do much harm if he gave in this time. His head and boy felt so gruesome, he was just too exhausted. He… he didn’t want to have to fight at the moment.

Undertaker sensed the change when the blond reaper slowly relaxed and leaned in the comforting touch he offered him. “Pardon me, little one. I didn’t intend to upset you” he assured his little hostage, sounding gentle. “I won’t lie to you not because you are my hostage but rather because it wouldn’t be much fun to deceive you.”

The young reaper lifted the glance of his chartreuse eyes up to Undertaker. There was confusion in his glimpse and curiosity. He didn’t understand the purpose behind the words of the odd, maniac deserter. Why he even seemed to be… nice.

“You can consider yourself as my guest for the time being, if it makes things easier for you.”

He felt the younger shinigami tensing up again, the fair male backed up from him. His hand slipped from the small shoulder of the blond but he didn’t reached out for the boy when he distanced himself from the ancient shinigami.

Ronald took a deep breath, didn’t managed to banish the trembling from his voice when he spook. “We know both that I am anything but a guest.”

“That doesn’t mean you will have to lack anything.”

“Except from my freedom.”

“Yes, all but that” Undertaker nodded. “As long as you don’t force me by trying to escape or you attack me, you are perfectly safe.”

“You… won’t harm me?”

“Promise!” the silver-haired shinigami proclaimed. The grin on his lips lacked the usually mocking, amused expression. Instead it appeared genuine and polite.

Ronalds eyes darted anxiously over the visible part of Undertakers face. He wished, this hat wouldn’t cover so much – how was he supposed to know for sure if the retired reaper speaks the truth that way? Well, he would have to take the risk – once more.

He gave a timid nod. “I… guess I have to rely on that you don’t toy with your prey.”

“Not as you might think, no,” Undertaker chuckled, excited by the way the blond flushed, cute red crawling upon the blond’s delicious features. How charming! It made him wish to do this more often. Make the blond reaper flush, like that.

Ronald averted his head hastily to hide his heated face in embarrassment. “Uh… Stop it!” he complained, not really used to comments like that. He noticed it when someone was flirting, he for himself flirted almost constantly with the female members of the London Department and have had plenty dates. But to be not the one initiating it… and the other a male…

He was uncertain and perplexed, didn’t know how he should respond to that. Undertaker giggled and enjoyed himself quiet well. Who could have assumed that the blond had a shy side? The boy flinched somewhat when he heard Undertaker giggle.

“Just teasing! But if I think about how easily you got flustered-”

“I’m not flustered!“ He screamed and impulsively reached out to hit Undertaker. When a sharp pain flickered through his arm he gasped and forgot his former intention. With his teeth clenched he managed to hiss, “Undertaker… Don’t do that, I… I…”

“What? Worried I could take advantage of you?”

Self-conscious Ronald moved away further, slightly concerned. He wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe Undertaker, that he won’t go to extremes. But… he wasn’t sure, how far the assurance of the deserter to not harm him would go. Stiffly he shook his head, unsure whether he negated the question or refused the answer in general.

“Very well. How about we start with you telling me your name?” The curious words were accompanied by a soft, excited giggle to which Ronald felt he could get used to. 

Ronald lifted his head and frowned. “Wh-what?”

Undertakers smirk widened. “Pardon me for not knowing your name. It seems the rapid development our encounter took hadn’t allowed it for you and your vivid companion to introduce yourself properly.”

“Is it a habit of yours to abduct someone without even knowing his name?”

“Well, the name wasn’t exactly the criterion for my choice.”

“You… chose? Why…”

With a swift, sloppy movement of his hand Undertaker wiped the blond’s words away. “Will you let me know your name, my dear? I noticed the redhead calling you Ronnie. Would you prefer I call you Ronnie as well?"

Involuntarily a weak laugh left Ronald throat. He was used to pet names, Grell owned a pretty remarkable repertoire of those. A light smile curled the corner of his mouth.

“Ronald Knox.”

Undertaker nodded, thinking that this name was fitting his carrier well. “Very well, Ronald. Would you mind if I check on your wounds?”

 

To be continued...


	5. Chapter Five

Ronald was astonished how easily he had forgotten his injuries over the conversation with Undertaker. Honestly! Had he hurt his head somewhat during the fight? Oh, yes. He actually had… But it doesn’t explain…

His glance sild down his body automatically, he wanted to know how bad the damage was the fight had caused. Puzzled, Ronald frowned when he noticed that he didn’t wear his working clothes. Instead of the plain black suit, the white shirt and the black tie – everything according to the strict regulations the Dispatch had established – he was dressed in some unfamiliar shirt and trousers that wasn’t his. Both was too big for him, hung at his body baggy style. But at least the fabric wasn’t scrubbing at his injuries that way.

Wait! His injuries! Hastily he pulled the sleeves down to have a look at his arms. His eyes widened blankly when he saw the bright, clean bandages which neatly covered his arms.

Then he realized what his trappings, the aided injuries actually meant. He flushed heavily and shoot a taunting look at Undertaker. “You… you have… you undressed me!”

Undertaker nodded but didn’t bother to pretend remorse or dismay. “I had to tend to your wounds, so it was necessary.” When the embarrassed red not vanished form the features of the boy, Ronald uneasily tugged at the sleeves, he added soothingly “No worries, little one! I haven’t done anything naughty to you.”

Once the cute blush had eased a little bit from the blond’s cheeks and Ronald seemed to have relaxed somewhat Undertaker spoke again. “Do you mind? I would like to make sure that your wounds heal properly.”

He waited patiently for Ronald to give his content. Forcing his little hostage wouldn’t do anything good.

After several uncertain moments Ronald huffed quietly and nodded. He assumed it wouldn’t be useful to refuse. In the end some of his injuries were caused by a death scythe, therefor he shouldn’t take it lightly.

“It’ll be easier without the shirt getting in the way.” Undertaker reached out his hands for Ronald to help him getting undressed. Almost instantly Ronald lifted his hand.

Undertaker understood and withdrew instantly. He watched Ronald unbuttoning the shirt, his fingers worked with stiff, clenched movements and the jaw of the boy was tense. It was obvious that he was in great pain, but Ronald continued his work stubbornly and resolutely.

It took a while, but Ronald struggled through, clenched his teeth and urged the pain back. Occasionally he moaned quietly in discomfort. Finally, he striped of the soft fabric off his shoulders and arms with trembling fingers.

With a warning glance to Undertaker, demanding to absolutely not try something what would be awkward, he said “Let’s get it over with.” Ronald lowered himself back in the pillows and tried to not letting his body tense up.

“I’ll be careful.” Undertaker assured chuckling and started to remove the bandages. Ronald behaved calm and cooperative. He stared at the ceiling and pretended to not take notice of Undertaker and his actions. Undertaker worked swiftly but cautiously, was determined to not touch his young patient more than absolutely necessary. It wasn’t until he removed the last layer of the bandages from an especially bad wound, that Ronald showed a reaction. The blood had glued the fabric to the sensitive skin and now the wound was torn open again. Ronald hissed agonized, his hands twitched as if he wanted to hit Undertaker, but he pulled himself together and remained limp.

“Pardon me” Undertaker muttered and removed the fresh blood carful with a wet towel.

Ronald nodded brokenly. “Never mind” he said unworried. “It just took me of guard. I… didn’t feel your touch before.”

Relieved Undertaker resumed, took off the remained bandages. Eventually he observed the injuries which covered the torso and the arms of the young reaper. Satisfied with sight he nodded.

“Very well. Your wounds have already started healing.”

He gently traced one finger over a peculiar nasty wound at the blond’s shoulder. Ronald shuddered a little at the touch though it wasn’t from pain.

“Hm… this injury was caused my death scythe.” The silver-haired shinigami explained. “There will probably a scar left, I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve nothing against scars.”

Undertaker smiled at those words. He for himself wore his scars, which was left from the battle for his death scythe with proud. They were ware trophies, reminding him of what he had left behind. Where he never would go back – nor want to.

When Undertakers cold fingers closed gently around his chin and turned his head, Ronald frowned and resisted. Yet he understood that Undertaker merely intended to gain a better look at the injuries covering his face and indulged. To feel the canvassing glance of the retired Shinigami running over him without being able to see it, was a strange feeling, unnerving him.

“Blast it!” Ronald grumbled, rather to cover up his confusion but not without interest. “How can you possibly see anyway? With those bangs… without glasses.”

“Didn’t I told you and the red whirlwind already that you reapers really rely too much on your glasses?”

“May be that those glasses are important to us… But you have to be nearly blind!”

Undertaker chuckled gleefully and slightly shook his head. “Well, this blind, loony geezer merely walked away with a few, little scratches while you, your companion an Sebastian… let’s say… are a tad battered.”

The mentioning of Grell made Ronald starting up with a fierce jolt. He wasted no thought at the renewed pain the nervous movement caused.

“Grell!” he gasped startled. “Is… is she alright?” He stared at Undertaker with a expression of pure shock. If something happened to his mentor… She had taken some violent hits too – and he couldn’t know what happened after he passed out.

Please, please, Grell just had to be alive, he silently pleaded.

Undertaker paused and surveyed the young reaper with interest. Ronald hadn’t reacted that eager before. Not even when he woke up in unfamiliar surroundings with him at his side. The blond hadn’t showed fear so far, had seemed rather frustrated. But now the concern was obviously craved at his juvenile features.

Frowning Ronald looked at the figure draped in black. Why didn’t he say anything? “Undertaker?” His voice quivered lightly as he tried to wrestle down the emerging panic. “Please… what is with Grell?”

Undertaker realised that his thoughtful silence had upset his patient and flashed him a reassuring smile. “I haven’t killed your vivid companion, if it is what you’re concerned about” he explained gently. “It may well be that she is a little harassed by now. Nothing a Shinigami can get over with.” The wary look didn’t vanish from the chartreuse eyes of the younger male and Undertaker couldn’t really blame him for it.

When Undertaker asked him to lean back again, so he could carry on Ronald didn’t move, simply continued starring at him as if he hoped to prompt the mortician to tell him more about what happened to the flamboyant redhead that way. As much as he would like to relieve the blond from his concern, he just couldn’t.

He used light pressure at Ronalds shoulder to make him laying back again, but again the reaper resisted. Undertaker didn’t dare going more forcefully, the boy had to endure enough pain at the moment.

Hm… he seemed more worried about the wellbeing of his coworker than of his own. Eventually he sighed quietly.

“Your charming coworker war injured seriously but not gravely, when I left. Dispatch will have realised soon enough that the assignment hadn’t run as expected and will have sent someone to check if everything is in order” he announced finally.

Ronald hesitated for a moment as he thought about Undertakers words. It was true. There had been doubts about the assignment given to just two reapers from the beginning. Those two reapers of all things… But there was no alternative. Dispatch was irredeemably understaffed, as Will constantly complained.

Well, at least Will would have gone after this. The supervisor still had doubts about Grell being effectively rehabilitated and gave his permission rather grumpily. He hadn’t liked the idea that was Grell was involved in an assignment as important as this one unattended.

Grell would be alright… at least he hoped so.

When Undertaker coaxed him again to lay back, he let him. Though he didn’t manage to relax, observed every movement of the silver-haired Shinigami warily. He watched how Undertaker tended to his wounds, which hadn’t closed already, cleaned them, renewed the stitches sticking together two wounds at his arms and treated the cuts and bruises at his face with ointment. It eased the burning throbbing and twitch, felt pleasantly cool at his skin.

The two Shinigamis had a little struggle when Undertaker demanded to look after the blond’s injured legs. With a startled hiss Ronald pushed away the long, pale hands rather fierce as they attempted to meddle with the trousers. “Don’t!” Ronald cried out, his rude inflection was completely ruined by the worried look of his wide opened eyes.

“I have to look at all of your injuries.”

“Not necessary!”

“You’ll rather risk an infection than allowing me to treat the wounds at your legs?”

“Positive!”

Undertaker chuckled and shook his head, grinning widely. „That’s the first time you got injured by a death scythe, isn’t it?”

“A death scythe isn’t supposed to be used against fellow Shinigamis!” Ronald muttered. “So: Yes.”

“Well, then I can assure you, that you don’t want to have wounds caused by a death scythe untreated. It’ll took three times as long for them to heal. If the wounds aren’t handled properly you’ll be in rather nasty pain for the next days.”

Ronalds glance darted to Undertakers visible scars. The scar at his throat looked like someone had tried to behead him. It was a miracle he had survived anyway… At least Undertaker seemed to know what he was talking about.

More pain… The blond reaper shuddered at the mental image. And about the infection… Before he could finish the thought, Ronald felt himself nodding and giving Undertaker finally his consent.

As much as Undertaker enjoyed teasing the young blond – his reactions really were the most gorgeous – he found himself not in the mood to torture his hostage any longer. How awkward the situation was to the reaper was obvious. A light, bashful flush had creeped to his cheeks, the blond’s eyed darted nervously across the room, clenched to everything – through avoiding Undertaker.

Undertaker uncovered the remaining wounds of the boy and observed the injuries with an experienced look. Ronald obviously didn’t intend making things easier for him. The blond struggled uneasily at the bed, wiggled under Undertakers glance.

“Would you please stop struggling so much?” Undertaker sighed while he tried to keep the young reaper still without hurting him and upsetting the wounds.

Ronald shot a glance at Undertaker which tried too much to seem frustrated. “Then stop looking at me like that!”

Undertaker paused, looked at the blond with a raised brow. He tempted to hold back a wide grin and put on a preferably innocent expression, but he couldn’t hold back a swiftly twitch of the corner of his mouth. “Oh? How do I look at you, then?”

Ronald wiggled in awkwardness. “As… as if you…” As if you want to come at me. His voice died down and he shook his head violently in a vain attempt to clear his mind.

Of course he knew this look and its meaning! Usually he had laughed at it, most likely had entered the game joyously. Flirting wasn’t second nature to him like it was to Grell, but he was used to it. As long as he hadn’t anything to lose…

“As if I…?” Undertakers tone of voice couldn’t be more innocent, sounded honestly surprised.

An irritated hiss escaped his lips. “Oh please… You know very well what I’m talking about! You damn… damn nuisance!” Undertaker responded to this insults with a excited giggle and seemed rather amused about Ronalds attempt.

Oh, of course he knew! But it was so much fun seeing how the young reaper couldn’t find his words. “Hm… I don’t know… I’m afraid, but it looks like you have to be a little more explicit…”

“You’re really mad!” Ronald shook his head and sighed. He frowned and murmured “Honestly…”

“Awww! But it’s fun!”

“Says you!”

“Isn’t bothering me at all. And now… Stay still!” The blond actually left his struggling and Undertaker was able to continue his work.

The legs of the blond were injured worse than the upper body, his scythe and the demon’s daggers had deeply cut into the flesh, had damaged some muscles. Pleased Undertaker registered that bleeding had stopped. The margins of the wounds were neat and smooth, didn’t show evidence of any swellings or unnatural redness, which could evolve into an inflammation.

“Very well”, Undertaker announced finally. “Your healing is magnificent. It will be gone in a few days, mayhap two weeks.”

Ronald exhaled in relief, deemed to be over with the procedure. Not that Undertaker had been rough with him, quite the contrary. The young reaper had to admit reluctantly that Undertaker did know what he was doing. It’s only… it was so embarrassing laying half-naked at a bed in front of… this… lunatic.

As fast as his injuries allowed to, he grabbed the blanket to protectively cover himself with it, but Undertaker stopped him. “Not now” the silver-haired Shinigami said and reached his hand as if he was ready to hold Ronald back physically. Before he could touch the younger male, he paused, was restrained by the distraught look the boy shot at him.

“There still is something important we have to talk about” he began. Whereas his grin didn’t vanish for an instant from his features his inflection had lost the gleeful, teasing undertone and was completely serious for once. He tapped with a long black nail slightly at the bandages, fixed around the lean waist.

A concerned furrow was graved between Ronalds brows. He had expected that Undertaker would mention this injury sooner or later… but after the retired reaper had skipped the wound at first and hadn’t took cognizance of it, he had hoped…

 

 

To be continued...


	6. Chapter Six

“It’s nothing…” Ronald murmured, hoping, Undertaker would leave it alone when he was dismissive enough.

Undertaker frowned. “Obviously not”, he announced in earnest. “How have you managed to contract such a nasty wound anyway?”

“That… isn’t important!”

“Oh! You’re sure?“ Undertaker intensified the pressure at the wound a little, just firm enough to make the blond reaper gasping quietly. Ronald grimaced as he tried hide the pain.

Between clenched teeth he choked “… just a bit sore…” He took a deep, steadying breath to collect himself. “Would you… please… take your hands off of me?”

“A bit sore? You’re really intending to amuse me, aren’t you?” Undertaker said, quiet unusually without any trace of humour in his voice. Nevertheless he complied with the blond’s request and withdrew his hand.

“Only a few hours ago you run a fever and collapsed. Judging by the temperature of your forehead the fever hasn’t gone down yet completely. You know, an infection isn’t something you should underestimate?”

Ronald dropped his gaze at the blanket.

“Ah, I see…” Undertaker said, and a light smile creeped back to his lips. “So you know how serious your injury is.”

“It is… I get along with it…” the blond muttered and Undertaker could clearly see the uncertainty in the look of his chartreuse eyes. The boy wasn’t stupid, he knew what the wound meant. Yet he was anxious to not let a weakness show to Undertaker.

Undertaker sighed, accepted that he wouldn’t make any progress if he urged Ronald. “Well, then. If you think so” he relented softly. „But still, I would be relieved if you could allow me to at least have a look at the damage.”

“Absolutely no!” Ronald protested – or so he had planned to. Instead he heard a resigned “Blast it! Knock yourself out!”

“Now, now! Is that an offer?”

“No! Old pervert!”

“Rather ancient than old, but yes.”

“You’re odd” Ronald murmured, shaking his head and tried to hold a grin back. The morbid humour the silver Shinigami showed was droll and disconcerting, nevertheless was disarming in some way.

Taking the irritated words as permission Undertaker busied himself with the bandages. He did as gentle as he could. Still he couldn’t avert causing his young patient pain when he loosened the blood-soaked layers. He saw Ronald flinching, his jaw clenched, and his hands jerked uneasily. But the reaper didn’t make any sound of agony.

“No improvement…” Undertaker muttered quietly when he finally uncovered the inflamed wound. There was concern within his voice, which had made Ronald curious if he wasn’t too occupied with trying to keep his breathing steady.

His words were slightly jerky and forced when Ronald spoke. “It isn’t healing.”

The mortician stared at the fair-haired reaper frowning, not sure whether to laugh or shake his head in bewilderment. “It didn’t start healing at all?” he repeated lowly. “Instead it worsened…?”

The blond’s silence was indication enough for Undertaker. “How long ago was that?” he inquired, using the determined, competent tone of a man who spender the largest amount of the day tending to human bodies. (After all, the physics of shinigamis and humans wasn’t that different.)

“Over… a week…” Ronald admitted. It wasn’t that he miraculously came to trust the deserter. No, indeed. But the pain this wound caused him… Besides, his head still felt heavy and drowsy due to the fever. He… he just wanted it to stop.

“The cause?”

“Demon:” Ronald found it easier to talk with Undertaker when he was like this. Professional and composed, in complete control of the situation. “The claws. It… didn’t look that bad at first… But then…”

“I take it, you haven’t seen a physician after the incident, instead you tried to handle the infection by your own?”

There was a brief nod, made fair, blond bangs falling above the abused face with the delicate features.

Undertaker gave a low hiss. “What did you think you were doing!” he exclaimed stunned, tediously composed to not let his voice rise to much. He didn’t want to scare the young reaper off. “A wound by demon claws! That’s pure poison!”

Doubtfully he shook his head. „Why didn’t you go to the hospital? The doctors there are quite talented if it comes to patching reapers up after being attacked by demons. The injury hadn’t need to get inflamed! The fever was unnecessary!” Honestly, how reckless could this young reaper be! A damned demon wound! Did this greenie even understand, how dangerous such a thing was? To treat his life that negligent…

Ronald threw an irate, frustrated look at Undertaker. “I couldn’t” he snapped, voice raised and close to yelling. “Do you think I wanted this? If it had been possible…” His voice trailed off. Why was Undertaker suddenly that irritable anyway? He hadn’t done anything! Undertaker had no right to speak to him that way, to rebuke him for his very own decisions!

While he had spoken his voice had become more and more choking. Ronald felt the ominous burning behind his eyelids. Hastily he averted his head from Undertaker, unwilling to show his abductor even more weakness than he already did.

“Anyway! What business is it of yours?” he stated, feigning a offended tone to disguise his confusion. “Just leave me alone!”

“Momentarily I’m in charge of you. That’s including your wellbeing – at least physically.”

“I didn’t ask for it!”

Undertaker intended to respond when he saw the lost expression at the younger male’s pale, maltreated face. He detected tears, treacherously gleaming at the corner of his eyes. Ronald breathed too rapidly, his whole body was tense.

Immediately he felt guilt. He shouldn’t have gone up against him that harsh. In the end the fair reaper had run through a lot, had got severely injured, battered and abducted – at one day. Not to forget his fever…

He gently laid a hand at the boy’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly. “Hey…” he said lowly. “I’m sorry. I’ve no right to criticise your decisions.”

Ronald murmured barely audible but made no attempt to break free from his grasp. “It’s just… you had to suffer horrible pain for more than a week. Pain, you could have avoided.”

Chartreuse eyes at the edge of crying stared at him in an alluring mess of mistrust and hope. “Why should my pain be of any interest of you? Besides… What’s the point of all of that?” With a helpless gesture he pointed at his body.

“Why do you bother anyway?”

“I can’t have my little hostage die” Undertaker told with a careless shrug. “You are quite a cute little thing, Ronald. It really would be deplorable, to see the very life leaving you.”

Whereas he didn’t like being called a “cute, little thing” – seriously, what about him was cut? – Ronald didn’t react. Instead he noticed his features relaxing a bit, his look becoming softer. “It really hurts like hell” he admitted quietly.

Undertaker nodded in sympathy. “I’m surprised that you were able to fight anyway. Despite the fever and the pain, you’ve done well.”

“You outranked the three of us without any difficulties and bet us up.”

“For you!”

“Admitted. What’s wrong with enjoying oneself?” He grabbed the jar with the antiseptic balm. “This is going to hurt.” He didn’t give Ronald the Chance to protest or clench up and just applied the ointment to the wound. The blond gave a squeaking noise, rather in surprise than in pain. Ronald laughed delighted. That sounded cute!”

“Arg!” Ronald gasped hissing when the pain rushed delayed in time through his body, the ointment burned at the injury. “Don’t dare do that again!”

“Chuckling Undertaker said, “Already finished.”

“The balm has an antiseptic effect and should help with infections by demon claws as well. But if your wound won’t improve noticeably soon we will have to try something else” Undertaker declared. He was well experienced with that kind of injuries and knew that those, if already far gone, was hard to get under control. Undertaker hoped, the infection wasn’t thus far advanced.

Once Ronalds stressed breathings had calmed down a bit he addressed him friendly. “Why did they allowed you to work in this state at all? You shouldn’t have been at the Campania.”

“’cause nobody knew. I hid it. Besides… somebody had to do this assignment. We are understaffed at the moment.”

“Dispatch is always at a lack of staffs” Undertaker grinned. “It was when I still was part of the society. Overtime and paperwork by the pile.”

Ronald barely registered his approving nod. “I hate overtime.”

That was quite fitting the young reaper, Undertaker thought giggling. The blond seemed like the guy who spent the time after clocking out rather at a bar with friends that filling out some reports and documents at the office. He could understand that. He had always thought about the paperwork as boring and unnecessary.

“Well. Care to tell me how this injury happened?”

The blond was about to snap at Undertaker that it wasn’t his business in any possible way and had to stop to annoy him. But… he had told him more than he had ever intended. So, he assumed it didn’t matter any longer.

“Grell and I were out at the field, collecting souls. In doing so we were attacked by a demon. Well… actually me… Grell wasn’t… there…” His voice trailed down and died completely.

Undertaker watched in interest when Ronald slowly got uncertain and a glumly expression creeped to his face. That he seemed sad and lost as he mentioned Grell. Hm… what was about the vibrant redhead? Curious now he wanted to know more.

“Could it be the charming Ms. Sutcliff have something to do with you keeping your injury a secret?” Undertaker enquired slowly and relinquished his signature giggling. His little hostage behaved pleasantly cooperative and he really not wanted to soot it down by being to forceful.

“It… wasn’t Grells fault…” Ronald sighed. „But yes, I was doing it on Grells behalf.”

Undertaker made himself comfortable at the bed beside Ronald whereby he couldn’t restrain himself from moving closer to Ronald so that he invaded his personal space. “What happened?” Their arms collided for an instant. Immediately Ronald distanced himself making Undertaker grinning.

“We… we were scheduled to collect to soul of a young girl. It was our first assignment of the day, and Grell had… something to do… before. We had plenty of time so there was nothing against it. But when it was about time, Grell wasn’t there. And then the time was getting short, so I went alone to the reap. I shouldn’t have done that…” signing Ronald shook his head and ruffled his hair. “Heavens” he then murmured confused. “Why I’m telling you that anyway?”

Nevertheless he continued his story. “The reap should have been an easy one, nothing more than a standard collection: But this demon emerged before I could collect the soul. Well, you can think about what happened. I was in really bad troubles…”

“Grell had abandoned you?” Undertaker sounded stunned. Yes, the redhead was flamboyant und overenergetic, but at the Campania it had been obvious that Grell cared for the young blond.

Ronald shook his head fiercely. “No! No! It’s not like that!” he assured hastily. “She was just… otherwise occupied. And she was there shortly after and ended this demon. However, I had already contracted the wound already…”

“Why didn’t you go to the infirmary immediately? I assume it wouldn’t have been the first time you finished up there after an assignment?”

“You assume right” Ronald chuckled. His next words were suffused with affection. “But rather to turn in Grell there. She has a strong tendency to get herself in trouble, you know…”

“Noticed that” the silver-haired shinigami agreed. “But why…?”

“We should have done the reap together. Grell shouldn’t have left me alone. If had come around injured like this there would have been questions inevitably. They had ascertained that Grell wasn’t with me… And she would have got into horrible trouble again. Grell had been under penalty for so long and was just rehabilitated. Our subordinates don’t trust her again yet… this time she hadn’t get away easily. I just couldn’t…”

Undertaker nodded. „You didn’t want to see Grell punished again.”

“That’s it. Grell… she isn’t really a bad person! She is trying so very hard! She hadn’t deserved it…”

“I see. You’ve acted right.” Ronalds perplexed expression let Undertaker burst into a violently laughing fit. He doubled over at the bed while he tried not to suffocate at his own laughter.

The younger shinigami started at the figure clenching at his stomach and sniggered forcefully. Just what had he said what was so funny? “Undertaker?” The deserter seemed to not notice him anyway, captured in his laughing fit. That his big, wide hat lipped of his head, he didn’t notice too. His long, silver hair slumped at his side, revealing once again this odd delicate, even features, Grell would label as “incredible handsome” without doubt.

“Undertaker!” Again the older shinigami didn’t reacted to this attempt. Undertaker had buried his face in the pillow and choppy, chocked sounds chimed through the room. His laughter wasn’t exactly unpleasant…

Ronald accepted that he would have to wait for Undertaker to regain his composure again. With shaking his head he surveyed the silver-haired, retired reaper beside him. The This guy was really strange!

It took some minutes until Undertaker managed to pull himself together. While he absentmindedly wiped some tears of laughter of his face and put his hat on, he said “Do excuse me. I got carried away.”

“What could possibly that funny?” Ronald said grumpily, not sure what to think about this outburst. He had wanted to cross his arms in front of his chest but thinking about his injuries it wouldn’t be a good idea. “I don’t like to get laughed at!”

“Oh, my dear!” Undertaker exclaimed, slightly out of breath. (Good thing reapers don’t need breathing. For the most of them it still was habitual.) “I would never laugh about you! It’s just that…” Satisfied with the position of the hat the mortician focused his whole attention at his little hostage again. “You really think I can’t understand your reasons?”

Ronald nodded, remained silent. What should he had assumed instead?

“You really are a cutie! Just because I defected, betrayed the reaper’s society, it doesn’t mean that I can’t honour the values dispatch once was standing for. You supported your coworker and friend because you wanted to protect her from punishment for you felt it was right. I can acknowledge that. Sometimes you have to break with the protocol in behalf of a friend.

Undertaker pointed at the inflamed wound with his long, black nails. “Whatever, you shouldn’t have left the injury unattended. I understand why you haven’t gone to the infirmary, but you should have done something about it by yourself.”

“I don’t know how” the young reaper confessed. It wasn’t the first time that he got injured by a demon while out at the field. But the doctors at the infirmary had attended to the matter so far if the injury was serious. The smaller wounds he had treated by his own but they never were inflamed.

Shaking his head murmured Undertaker. “Just what do they teach the new reapers todays at the academy?” Before Ronald could react – already thinking about a cheeky answer – Undertaker continued. “Lucky you, I’m experienced such matters. So, don’t worry. We will fix that.“

Undertaker noticed that the sounded more confident that he actually was. Sure, he was completely able to tend to a demon wound when the injury was merely inflamed and infected. But should it point out, that the wound was contaminated it would be much more difficult…

“Well then, dearie”, Undertaker broke the short silence which had developed between them. “You have to be hungry. Would you like something to eat?”

He saw Ronalds confused, uncertain look, it wasn’t difficult to guess the thoughts crossing his beautiful head. The young reaper hadn’t expected his abductor the be nice and Undertaker hadn’t done anything but unsettle him so far.

“I… I’m not hungry.” Undertakers brows jerked but he said nothing about it. At least his little “guest” would have to drink something.

“How about something to drink then?” Undertaker suggested friendly. “I was going to put on the kettle for some tea anyway bevor you woke.”

Hesitantly Ronald nodded. “I think… tea would be… nice…”

Pleased Undertaker clapped his hands and rose from his place at the bad. “Tea it’s then” he announced delighted. Undertaker looked at Ronalds exhausted features and his cramped body he added. “Would you like the clean you first? Your day was very stressful, and you must be rather drained.”

Ronald thought about it for a moment. Undertaker wasn’t wrong at all. Every single muscle of his body was clenched and pain throbbed through his neural system like a permanent, unnerving cramp. Besides… it would get him some minutes of rest from Undertaker…

“I… would like that…” he murmured finally.

“Very well. Do you think you can manage it by your own or do you want me to assist?”

Ronald shook his head fiercely. “Don’t you dare!” he shouted, socked. An endearing contrast to the flush creeping over his cheeks.

“You’re sure? You will have troubles doing it with those injuries” Undertaker teased. „I would be glad to help you.“

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself!” Ronald snapped while he flushed deeper. Giggling and enjoying the beautiful reactions of the young blond Undertaker gestured to one of the doors leading away from the bedroom. “Your wish should me my command. The bathroom is over there.”

Ronald nodded and tried to get up from the bed. He quickly had to learn that his arms lacked the strength for that and that he wouldn’t manage to turn out. He gasped in frustration. Damn! His body was too weak.

“Allow me.” Surprised Ronald glanced up and realised that Undertaker reached out his hand for him. He frowned and stared warily at the retired reaper. Undertaker chuckled and said “I’ll help you get up. That’s all.”

Hesitantly Ronald took the offered hand. Cool, slim fingers closed around his hand, firm but not painful. With Undertakers help he stood shortly after alongside the bed, slightly crouched because the injuries at his torso hurt. He staggered dangerously and had to take some deep breaths to pull himself together. When Undertaker laid his arms supportingly around his waist and helped him walking over to the bathroom, he didn’t fight back.

At the bathroom Undertaker gathered some towels for his “guest”, left the room to took the cloths from the bedroom and placed them at a side table. Then he went over to the bathtub and put the water on. When he was satisfied with the preparations he turned to Ronald.

“While you’re taking the bath, I’ll make us some tea. If something is wrong or you need help, just call.” When Ronald nodded he left him alone.

Finally alone Ronald took of the remaining cloths and got into the tub. Despite being careful and slow the gasped in pain and clenched his teeth. It went better once the warm water flowed comfortably over his maltreated body. Ronald just laid there for a while, allowed the smooth water washing away the pain and the exhaustion.

 

 

To be continued...


	7. Chapter Seven

Undertaker was busy in the small but well-provided kitchen. He quickly put on the kettle for the water, then gathered two cups with experienced movements from the shelve and prepared the leaves for the tea.

Afterwards began to make food. Although Ronald had said he wasn’t hungry, he for himself felt like starving. Whilst the blond had been still asleep he had left the flat in order to get some groceries. After preparing the batter he needed for his favourite cookies, cutting out the cookies with the cutter in the shape of bones and shoving the plate into the stove he went over to the bedroom to make the bed.

He plumped up the cushions when he heard a muffled knock from the bathroom, followed by a suppressed scream. Promptly the bypassed the few meters to the bathroom, ripped open the door and rushed in.

“Ronald!”

The lean blond laid at the floor in front of the tub, body and hair drenched, panting and fighting to get back to his feet. Within an instant Undertaker was at Ronalds side and kneeled beside the slender figure at the wet floor.

He put his hand to the bladebone of the boy to deter him from remaining his wiggling and hurting himself even more. Ronald tensed and froze at his touch, laboured, hectic breaths and pained moans coming from the little boy.

Carefully he grabbed his little patient and helped him to sit up. “What happened?” he inquired gently.

“… skipped” Ronald muttered indistinctly und managed it somehow to raise his head just enough that he could look at Undertaker. Undertaker noticed that the blond’s glance was unfocused and blurred. “Wanted to fetch the towel… then I felt dizzy…”

“You could have called me” Undertaker sighed while he stroked a few soaked bangs out of the pales face of the boy. He didn’t know why he was doing that. He just had the sudden urge to look at the delicate, juvenile features. A gentle smile darted over Undertakers face when he felt Ronald’s hands clenching at his arms to keep himself upright.

“… not… weak!” Undertaker heard the low, muffled protest coming from Ronald. He frowned in surprise. Weak? “Nobody said anything about being weak” he assured his “guest” sympathetically. “Come now, I’ll help you.” Undertaker dragged the boy into his arms to lift him up.

Ronald didn’t hear what Undertaker was saying. The young reaper felt humiliated. Not only that he had managed to end as a hostage of a lunatic, dangerous deserter, but wasn’t even able taking a bath without nearly fainting out. And now he was laying nude in the arms of his enemy.

Hold it! Nude… he was… completely nude… Suddenly he was hyperaware of the touch of Undertakers hands at his bare skin, he realised that he wasn’t wearing anything what could conceal the more private parts of his body. No!

Undertaker was just lifting him up, when the boy abruptly struggled violently in his grasp. “Let go of me!” the young blond screamed, voice high pitched and frantic. Confused Undertaker frowned. What…? Then he noticed the fierce flush at the blond’s face. The way Ronald averted his look and tried, to cover his lower body revealed everything he had to know. Ronald broke loose und crawled a few centimetres away from him, before he curled up und buried his face in his hands.

“It’s alright” Undertaker murmured soothingly, attempted to calm the cute blond down. “I won’t do anything to you right now.” Ronald relaxed a bit and the silver-haired shinigami was able to pull the blond back into his arms. “That’s right. You’re doing well” Undertaker said lowly and caressed encouragingly the boy’s arms. It took a while until tensed no longer and it seemed as if he had calmed down. Slowly and carefully he eased Ronalds hands from his face, but still the blond refused to look at Undertaker. “No worries. There is nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He carried Ronald to a chair nearby and urged him to sit down. While he went over to the side table and fetched the towel, darted a short glance to the blond over his shoulder.

“Whereas, I have to say…” Undertaker chuckled cheerfully “You are certainly well-endowed.” If it was possible, Ronald flushed even more. His head jerked up and he stared at Undertaker. He found it interesting to watch how embarrassment and anger flickered in those young chartreuse eyes, fighting for prevalence.

“Damned crank…” he hissed finally. Ah, the anger had won. “Stay away from me!” That was better than the desperate panic. It had been an odd reaction, Undertaker had to admit…

Undertaker had to pull himself together fiercely to not suffer a new laughing fit but couldn’t hold back a chuckle. It was just so gorgeous! Ronald responded to the lightest teasing so easily and with the most marvellous reactions. The adorable flush and the way the blond didn’t know what to do – dainty it was!

Of course Undertaker knew that there wouldn’t be anything going between them. Ronald wasn’t interested in him – that was rather obvious. And it wasn’t a habit of Undertaker to assault someone who wasn’t in the state of fight back. (Well, not seriously at least.) But seeing him embarrassed and teasing him by making him advances was really funny!

“Alright then, but to dry you I’ll have to touch you again – whether you like it or not” Undertaker stated blithely and went over to his “guest” with the towel. Ronald stared at him defensively but didn’t stir. Probably he was in too much pain and realized that it would do him no good if he struggled. Nevertheless, he didn’t seem to be too pleased about the idea.

Undertaker grinned widely. “Come on. It will be much easier if I’m doing it. An unnerved, frustrated sigh was Ronalds only answer, which Undertaker accepted as reluctant consent.

After he had dried the blond carefully, with consideration for the injuries and had wrapped him in a dry towel, he edged him back to the bedroom, using soft power, and forced him to sit at the edge of the bed. Despite Ronald didn’t fight back he clearly had no intention to making thing easier for Undertaker – which was rather fine with Undertaker. There was no fun in a limp, scared hostage which squatted in a corner and hid away himself at the rearmost angle of his mind. The blond seemed indeed a bit reluctant yet, but he had already shown that he wasn’t the type for to knuckle under to somebody or get lost of words by fear.

Yes, Undertaker was quite sure that this blond reaper was worth getting to know.

“Hell!” Ronald complained when Undertaker attempted to renew his bandages. “I can do it myself!”

“You certainly are, lovely” he smirked amused. “But it’s easier that way. I promise I’ll be careful.”

Ronald relented and allowed Undertaker to take care of the bandages and him. He was exhausted and there were so many thoughts cycling confusingly and messily within his mind. It was simpler to just surrender and let Undertaker do. He felt himself slowly relaxing under the quick, feathery touches of the other male. It was somewhat comforting to watch Undertaker working with this self-evident manner, the same natural self-assurance he had shown during the battle. Undertaker kept his word and was gentle with his injuries – but because of some reason he didn’t know Ronald had never doubted he wouldn’t. Ronald barely felt his touches for they were light and briefly.

Shortly after Ronald noticed the tiredness return to his limbs. When Undertaker passed over to drying his hair gently his eyelids began to shut with increasing urgency. After a while dropped in trying to tediously open his eyes and hold them close. It was just out of the urge for comfort, he assured himself.

The soft, almost tender movements Undertaker used to rub his hair dry, were not exactly uncomfortable. By now Ronald was so drowsy that he barely noticed when his body tilted forwards. It wasn’t until Undertakers hands closed firmly around his shoulders to prevent the blond from falling against him, that he was yanked back to reality.

Undertaker was astonished when he noticed Ronald relaxing, even closed his eyes trustfully. Oh my! The young reaper had to be terrible exhausted if he relinquished himself to his abductor. Ronald looked like he would fall asleep every moment. How different the handsome, regular features were, when he wasn’t fully conscious. Innocent and vulnerable. So young…

The younger reaper seemed to lean into his touch and Undertaker had a feeling that the cute blond was craving for affection. Hm… That was interesting. Undertaker had watched Ronald and Grell at the Campania, long before it had come to the fight. Of course he had noticed the attendance of two reapers, as well as he had immediately sensed the presence of the demon.

The way the blond acted, cheerfully, mischievously and flirtingly. It had been exhilarating to watch but there had been an intensive feeling of artificiality which revealed, that a great part of his behaviour had been insincere. Well, to be honest, it had made him curious. The lad had such a strong vitality – even it wasn’t equal to the exuberant temper of Grell – which was naïve and adventurous at the same time.

His thought straggled while he was occupied with the smooth hair of the blond. The colour was odd, two-coloured to be exact. The strong, bright blond mixed at the back of the head with dark, mild brown. A contrast, reminding Undertaker of a delicious bowl of vanilla and chocolate ice. Or coffee with egg liqueur…

When the blond reaper staggered lightly he remembered how much he had expected the boy to put up with and realised, how drained Ronald had to be. He was just going to let him know, that he had finished, Ronald could lay down now and sleep, when the blond lost his balance and plunged forwards. He was so surprised that he caught hold of him without thinking.

Almost instantly Ronald flinched, features suddenly alert and tense. “What…?” he stammered, obviously confused. Reassuringly Undertaker raised his hands und backed up a bit to comfort the startled reaper.

“You’ve lost balance. I just caught you, that’s all” Undertaker ensured him.

“Must have dozed off” Ronald confirmed. Dizzyingly he shook his head. How had he let himself distracted like that? “Damn…” For a short instant ha had forget the situation he was sucked in. The role allocation between them…

No! He wouldn’t accept it that easily! “Whatever!” he shouted, harsher and more frustrated than he had intended. “Are you through?”

Undertakers brows jerked at the unexpected sharp tone. A cheerful chuckle tingled within his throat and he flashed his signature, eerie grin to Ronald. His little one was just too cute for his own good!

The played with the idea to negate and tease him a little longer, just to see the adorable flush at the blond’s cheeks. But he really had overstrained his “guest”.

“I’m done” he announced therefore. He went over to the bathroom and hung up the towels, so they could dry off. When he was back with the blond reaper he noted that Ronald had get up from the bed and stood now in front of a small, dusty mirror at the wall. The blond had lifted his hand and run his fingers over his abused face. When his digits brushed over the stitched-up wound at his cheek he grimaced and whined in agony.

“It still hurts, right?” Ronald jerked back as he heard Undertakers voice suddenly so close to him. In the mirror he could see the silver-haired shinigami behind him. Good damn hell! Why had Undertaker to be higher than he!

He flushed when he realised that Undertaker had just caught him staring at himself at the mirror. What the fuck…? Why did he have to flush anyway? Fortunately he remembered Undertakers question.

“It’s… alright” Ronald said and tried to go back to his usually confident self. What was with Undertaker that confused him and made him react… that oddly. That… wasn’t he at all! “That is… it burns like hell but… it isn’t the worst…”

“Hm… would you like something against the pain? I could fetch some painkillers for you” Undertaker suggested. No reason to let his hostage suffer more than it was necessary.

Ronald didn’t hesitate for long and shook his head. He regretted it the next moment. His head protested violently with a short fit of dizziness and he had to use the wall for support. “That… wouldn’t be a good…idea…” he murmured and managed it to put on his usual, cheeky grin. “Can’t… have myself that helpless again with… my abductor next by.” He had the feeling of suffocating at the word “helpless”. “Who knows what you would give to me anyway. Maybe it would knock me out completely.”

“How true” Undertaker agreed sniggering. “Although I can assure you that I won’t try something. Unless you are interested?”

“As if!”

“You know you are flushing?”

“Not a bit!”

“Ah, then there has to be something wrong with my eyes…” With the last sentence he made Ronald laugh. “Blind bat!”

After this short slash the atmosphere between the two shinigamis eased noticeably. Ronald had a thing for cheeky behaviour and appreciated self-irony – he considered Grell and Eric his best friends for a reason. And when the retired reaper wasn’t aiming for him to be rattled he didn’t seem that bad.

“Well then!” Undertaker brought himself back into the blond’s focus. “How about tea now? Or would you rather like to go to bed and sleep?”

Ronald thought about the question for a moment. Sleeping for a few hours sounded gorgeous. His body would need rest to heal – and Ronald just wanted to get his strength back as soon as possible. But… he didn’t like the thought that once he woke up he would have to face this frustrating, confusing situation again.

“Tea… sounds fine” Ronald decided. “Wonderful!” Undertaker seemed genuinely delighted with his decision.

 

 

To be continued...


	8. Chapter Eight

Shortly after Ronald was sitting in the living room, observing the room with wide eyes. He wasn’t quite sure if he should find it fascinating or disturbing. Three coffins were spread all over the room, leaned at the wall or laid at the floor. Sculls were placed at the shelves, anatomic drawings – which were really detailed – decorated the walls and he rather not to know what the various, suspect jars, bowls and mugs were containing. That was… clearly bizarre.

At least the couch he was sitting at was incredible snugly. Unwittingly he leaned back into the cozy cushions whilst his glance travelled over the coffin leaning at the wall. At the first look the coffin was plain and little complex, wood lacquered in black, but if you took a closer look you could see dainty ornaments, craved into the wood, and delicate silvery adornments. This coffin wasn’t plain at all. Someone had poured a lot of effort into this elegant, neat work.

“That’s one of my favourite works.” Ronald flinched a bit, his glance darted to Undertaker, which was arriving from the kitchen, two steaming cups in his hands. “Actually I had made it for a costumer, an aristocrat, some baron, I think, who died surprisingly by a marsh fever he had contracted during a hunting party” Undertaker explained while he went over to Ronald and passed one of the cups to him. “So the official statement of the family. When I prepared the corpse for his last ceremony I couldn’t discover any sign of a disease. The man died in the best of health. But instead I found some toxins within his body, which really shouldn’t be there…”

Ronald accepted the tea, his hands closed around the warm cup and politely gave his thanks to Undertaker. The silver-haired shinigami took a seat at the armchair opposite to the couch.

“So… he was poisoned?”

Undertaker crackled. “I didn’t say that, didn’t I? I just stated what was in his body… and what wasn’t… Who would I be to make suchlike assumptions? I’m merely a humble mortician…”

“Right…” Ronald murmured but the corners of his mouth twitched. “Just as the little Phantomhive’s tamed lapdog is merely a butler…” Undertaker didn’t say anything, but his deepening grins was answer enough.

Undertaker took a sip of the probably blazing hot tea before he continued the story.

“I wanted to try something different with this coffin… plain and spare has its charm, but I had get bored at the time. After I had put so much effort and time into this nice piece I had troubles divesting myself of it. So I kept the coffin and my customer is resting now in another exemplar.”

“But… why is this coffin here, then? And the other coffins?” He wasn’t really curious. That was plain politeness. At least it was what Ronald assured himself.

Undertaker chuckled. Shrugging he said “Sentiment? I’ve got used to the charming surroundings of my little shop very much, so I guess I’ve difficulties to relinquish it now.” He showed Ronald an eerie grin and questioningly tilted his head. “Besides this coffins and skulls are markedly decorative. Don’t you think so?”

“It’s rather a bit… morbid.”

“Indeed? You won’t believe how cozy and snugly coffins could be. I could let you try.” Undertaker said the last sentence only half joking. He would really like seeing Ronalds lean, petite shape lying in one of his coffins. Pale, motionless and surrounded by tenuous, white sheets – the blond would look just ravishing!

Ronalds shocked gaze and his cringing told him that it indeed wouldn’t be a good idea. “No, thanks! I’ve to decline!” the blond gasped. The very thought caused a slight feeling of panic and made him nauseous.

“Ah, such a pity!” Undertaker said, sighing. “You’re really missing something!” He pouted and made a mental note to come up with the issue later again. Ronald took a carefully sipped at the tea but when he saw Undertakers pout he nearly choked on the tea as a laughter forced his way out if his throat. He had to tighten his hold at the cup to prevent the tea from spilling all over him. Immediately the grin jerked back to Undertakers features, seemingly satisfied that he had succeeded in braking trough Ronalds reserve.

“Well, probably coffins aren’t meant to be enjoyable for everyone” Undertaker admitted. “Your redhead companion wasn’t much exited too to wake up in one of my beautiful, custom-made coffins.”

Ronald took another sip of the tea while he was thinking. The tea was really delicious. He wasn’t sweet, rather bitter with a strong taste of herbs – just the way Ronald preferred usually. Undertaker had a good taste, he had to acknowledge. The former reaper pushed a jug provided with a cross over to him. The jug was filled with cookies in the shape of bones, and, judging by the warm, delicious smell radiating from the baked goods, freshly baked.

“Cookie?”

With a rapid shake of his head Ronald dismissed Undertaker’s offer. Said one shrugged his shoulders, fished two cookies for himself from the jar and scoffed them with relish. For a while none of the two males spoke, each on busied with sipping the tea and dwelling on thoughts.

Finally it was Ronald who spoke first. “Grell told me about it. About the coffin-thing, that is. She said, she had tucked you into a barrel with salt afterwards?”

Undertaker giggled at the thought. “Well, yes. That was quite fun!”

“Incredible” Ronald murmured. He admitted that he hadn’t believed Grell when he told him. Not that he would accuse Grell of lying, as far as he knew Grell never lied. But his lively mentor had a strong tendency to exaggeration. May it be the way he was behaving, dressed himself or even talked about something. “I know, Grell is impulsive and quite likes it going to extremes… Why had you allowed it?”

“I did?”

“Oh, don’t play coy!” Ronald failed in trying to use a sharp tone. “At the Campania you frazzled us out without any troubles. Grell is one of the best fighters I know, but her way of fighting… You didn’t want to tell me that Grell could have dumped the legendary reaper into a barrel with salt that easily.” Ronald hadn’t wanted to refer to him as legendary, it hadn’t been his intention to give him credit. But those dumb, stupid words had skipped over his lips before he had even noticed it.

Undertaker shrugged. “We aren’t demons, salt can do us no harm.” He grinned triumphantly when he remembered how Sebastian had tried to conceal his aversion against the white gold. Still the demon had to cover nose and mouth to not let himself get compromised by the salt. It hadn’t attracted the attention of the little earl at all. Undertaker had considered for a moment to make Ciel notice the weakness of his demon lapdog but had decided otherwise. If Earl Phantomhive wished for information he could ask for them anytime.

“Besides it was justified” Undertaker continued. “I have indeed offended Ms. Sutcliff, even if it was unintended. Though I have to admit that I hadn’t expected that reaction. But I had a very terrific time!”

“Now, it seemed she had enjoyed as well… in fact, Grell had considered how Spears-senpai would look like, buried in salt.” Ronald shook violently when an image of the exuberant redhead forcing the always collected, always stiff and neat supervisor into a barrel of salt, ghosted through his head. “That’s freaking disturbing!”

Undertaker laughed gleefully and abstained from telling Ronald that the most amusing part had been when Grell had pretended to be him later. The face of the little earl, when the enchanting redhead threw himself surprisingly at Sebastian, had been priceless. (Hm… quiet literally. Good, the boy and his demon butler didn’t know…) Just for that it had been worth allowing Grell to put him into the barrel!

“So…” Ronald sighed when the upcoming silence became awkward. „Why these moving corpses? Those… bizarre dolls?”

The question didn’t catch him off guard. Nevertheless he thought about for a moment before he answered. “Out of boredom” he announced and shrugged indifferently. “I was curious, and I never lack a stock of corpses, thanks to my work.”

You were bored? That’s why?!”

“Apparently so” Undertaker answered lightly. Well, it wasn’t the whole truth. There was so much more than plain boredom or mere curiosity to try nobody had ever dared to think of before, what had been the reason for his experiments. But his was one of the issues Undertaker would never share with another being. Even the one was a cute, amusing blond.

“You played with live and death in this vile… revolting… way, debauched the cinematic records and caused fucking deluging piles of paperwork and overtime! The management got onto us reapers, they accused us of sloppy work! ‘cause you were bored?!” Ronald was aghast. Disgusted he shook his head. “You couldn’t have thought of another option to get rid of your boredom?” he muttered. “Some new hobby instead?”

Giggling Undertaker folded his hands under his chin, bended forward and propped his elbow up at the coffee table in front of him. Expectantly he tilted his head and said in a provocative manner “Which would be…?”

“Drawing maybe? What’s about sports?” Ronald shrugged clueless. “Arg… Whatever!” The confusion caused by the unexpected, odd behaviour of his abductor made Ronald rather snippy. “Just find yourself some willing toy you can fuck to kill time.”

“Oh! Is it an offer, then?” Undertaker asked crackling.

“Most certainly not!”

Undertaker brought a long finger to his lips as if in thoughts while his other hand played with his small braid. “But you are into men?” He expected the blond to negate the question. Ronald seemed like the typical ladies’ man – impish grin, juvenile gritty turnout and a cheeky quote at hand. He had a self-evident, natural charm which showed to advantage the best when he was flirting. What he had done with playful ease when Undertaker had watched him at the Campania.

Therefor Ronalds question surprised him. “I’m… dating girls!” he stammered, flushing fiercely and too hectic. Those few words told Undertaker what Ronald was trying to hide. But he had to be sure at first. “Certainly there is a lovely little lady waiting grief-strickenly and desperately waiting for you to return?”

“I’m not really the… type for relationships…”

“Ah, I see. So it’s the uncomplicated, swiftly pleasure for one night? No further obligations, just the fun-part. You use them and then you toss them aside?” The question was meant to provoke the blond reaper, which worked out better than Undertaker had intended.

Blazingly fast the young reaper jumped up, ignoring the obvious pain. The cheerful, blithe features changed within an instant to an irate grimace.

“Do I look like a male whore to you!?” he hissed furious. “Yes, I like to flirt! And I’m enjoying the company of attractive, young girls! But I never shagged one of them! I’m not even-“

Undertaker couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer and tossed his head back, crackling. It was just too adorable! He recovered too quick for his liking. „Haah! Seems I’ve made a lucky find! It’s been a while since I’ve had such a good time with another person…”

“’s not nice!” Ronald complained grumpily. „You’ve done that with purpose!”

“Do forgive me for that” Undertaker said, voice still a little breathless but he had composed himself. “I was curious, and you hadn’t told me presumably.”

Ronald tilted his head in thoughts and observed the retired reaper warily. He didn’t like how easily Undertaker measured him up. He hadn’t told anyone that he actually was into men so far. His openly flirting and the numerus dates he went to with the female staff of the London division of the shinigami society only served to conceal his preferences. He spent some time with the girls who showed interest, but except of an enjoyable evening at a bar there was nothing between them.

“Admitted, I go for males. I may date girls, but just as friends. They know that” Ronald explained, though he didn’t even know why he told Undertaker anyway. “Whilst some of the girls pretend it’s a date. Merely to catch the attention of their real crush. I’ve quite a reputation at dispatch, though it isn’t as bad as Grell’s.”

“Hm… I see” Undertaker nodded. „Few men would stay inactive when they think the girl in which they have an interest is going out with the known ladie’s man of the dispatch.” Ronald grinned widely. “It’s mutual using. Everyone gets his benefits from this.”

“This raises the question of why?” Ronald, which was going to take a further sip of the tea, paused, the hand holding the cup froze halfway. “Why don’t you want anybody to know that you are into men in actual fact?”

Ronald raised his free hand and ruffled his hair – something he only did when he was uncertain. “Never you mind!” he pronounced barely. He hadn’t told anyone yet and if the whish ever should arise it certainly wouldn’t the black-clothed creeper!

“It’s not very polite to ask someone you barely know for a few hours such intimidating questions.” He found back to his usual cheeky and jaunty self and flashed Undertaker an impish grin. “I don’t ask you either about your preferences on sex.”

Undertaker lessened his wide grin to an amused smile. The blond really had a handsome smile, apparently tilted and with touch of teeth showing, made him look even younger. Pity it wasn’t genuine.

“Oh, I’m versatile.” With this answer he caught Ronald off guard. The reaper hadn’t expected Undertaker to react to this question he hadn’t actually stated. “It depends on what feels right with my partner and is enjoyed by both sides. I’m able to adapt if it is necessary.”

Flushed in embarrassment Ronald averted his head and was only able to resist the urge to hide his face with his hands, because he still held the teacup. Why did they have to talk about such awkward – private! - things at all! Agonized Ronald moaned quietly. One could have thought he had gotten used to such issues, after all Grell was his mentor. She was very outright, doesn’t mince matters and was able to turn nearly everything into an innuendo.

While he was busied looking at everything but Undertaker, his eyes brushed over a big shelf which caught his interest. It was a well-stocked bookshelf and Ronald automatically attempted to decipher some titles displayed at the spines. Unfortunately the room was dusky and the shelf too far way, so that he wasn’t able to.

“You are interested in books?” Undertaker enquired. It didn’t escaped his attention how the glance of the younger shinigami suddenly lightened up when he noticed the bookshelf.

Ronald nodded and darted a brief look at Undertaker before his eyes were captured again by the books. “Oh, yes. Very much! Reading is one of my favourite pastimes. I spent so much time in at the library, that is, when they let me so. And to describe my own bookshelf as crowded would be an understatement…” He laughed lowly and slightly shook his head. “I know, the most don’t believe me when I tell them probably because I spent so much time getting down and there almost isn’t a weekend I got terribly drunk. Sometimes during the week. Damn, once Spears-senpai gave me a pay-cut ‘cause I came to work hungover and smelling of alcohol. Well, yes. That and books… it doesn’t fit very well, huh?”

Fascinated Undertaker watched how the facial expression of the blond reaper changed while he was speaking. A smile had creeped at his features, not the studied, bold grin which he had shown before but a soft, dreamy smile, so feeble that it nearly perished with the dusky light of the candles. The silver shinigami didn’t think that Ronald noticed it anyway.

“I don’t see it like that” undertaker said gently. “In my experience the fewest interests and hobbies fit the slight impression of a person. To imply the way of thinking and the likings of someone just by the manner of acting and behaviour, is rather forwardly and only leads to prejudices. That, what we show to others is rarely that, what we truly are, our most private and vulnerable self. Regardless of whether human, angel, demon or shinigami – every living being has those two sides within him.”

Surprised Ronald looked at Undertaker, had connected eyes with the older male… if there weren’t those bangs! “That is… kinda deep.” He tilted his head in curiosity, watching the silver shinigami.

“Merely the experience of several millennia of living” Undertaker shrugged. “The world is constantly and steadily changing, but their inhabitants yet remain the same.” Ronald for himself hadn’t lived long enough, neither as human nor as a shinigami, to confirm Undertaker’s words. But he had to admit that they sounded pretty reasonable. Surprisingly rational of the shinigami who was generally known for being insane and lunatic…

Ronald frowned when another thought crossed his mind. Legendary reaper and wanted criminal on the run… at first glance it didn’t seem to fit together as well. Was there a further meaning behind those words of Undertaker?

“If you’re interested… You are welcome to have a closer look at the books and make use of the shelf” Undertaker suddenly said surprised Ronald once again.

“Really? You’re not just kidding?” Excitement and hope were so evident in his voice that Undertaker felt his lips curling into a genuine, tender smile. Again it wasn’t the grin most people found so frightening and disturbing, but the smile it was very rare for him to show.

Undertaker nodded and pointed to the bookshelf with a graceful movement of his hand. “It’s entirely at your disposal. Enjoy yourself!”

Ronald didn’t need a second invitation. As fast as his injuries allowed he got up and went over to the bookshelf. At first he just stood there, let his eyes travel over the bindings, hesitated to actually reach out. Most of the books were old, paper and binding yellowed, probably older than him. When he finally pulled out some book from the shelf, throwing a curious glance at them and randomly turned the pages, he noted that more than a few of the texts were written in languages he couldn’t understand.

One of the books especially caught his attention. It was a small but thick book with black binding. At first glance it seemed quite chaste, not interesting at all, but when Ronald opened it the old, yellowed pages where covered with chars, similar to nothing he had seen before. Most likely they could be compared to entwined, graceful scrollwork, remembering him a little bit to the traces snakes would leave in sand. But this description wasn’t nearly as accurate as he had wished it would be. The figures where fascinating, unintelligible and archaic.

“That’s ancient demon language.” Ronald shrugged and almost dropped the book when Undertaker’s voice was suddenly so close behind him. He had been too focused at the odd, unfamiliar figures that he hadn’t noticed the mortician stepping behind him.

He quickly recovered from the surprise and turned to Undertaker. It wasn’t a comforting feeling having the deserter in his back. “You speak the ancient demon language?” he inquired amazedly. “I thought there is no one left who could understand it – except of the demons, that is.”

“Yes, I can speak it” Undertaker answered. “And yes, you’re right. This language isn’t scheduled at the academy since centuries. So… I’m older than that and back there it was quite… common.”

“You must have pretty lot languages at hand, then” Ronald said questioningly with a vague gesture to the bookshelf, including every book written in a foreign language with one movement.

“Been a few” Undertaker modestly admitted whilst stepping closer to the shelf and trailing a long, pale finger absentmindedly over the spines. “When I was young, scarcely became a reaper, there hadn’t been much of us but a huge number of humans. You see… staffing problems are a steady matter… Well… Reapers hadn’t just one city or even a country under their responsibility. We had to collect the souls of humans of every country, went reaping all over the world. To check about the cinematic records, it was necessary to understand several languages. It wasn’t really a matter of choice. Much changed since then. Today… there are branch divisions for every county and crowded cities.”

Ronald had listened to Undertakers story silently and fascinated. Undertaker had spoken lowly whilst his fingers still wandered over the spines, with movements which seemed to be randomly but yet had some strategy behind it. Something which may be nostalgia but just as well astonishment one would feel when he looks back after a long while at actions from years ago and couldn’t understand why he had acted this way.

“It was really intriguing getting to know different cultures, to see the variety of live. To watch humans of all different nations and know, they would be the same in the end, when they finally die. No matter how a human may live his life, whether it is in the eyes of the higher one good and righteous or vicious and tainted – finally they will be planted deep beneath the dirty ground. Fate of the mortality, isn’t it?”

Undertaker shook his head hastily as if he wanted those bothersome, unwelcome thoughts to disappear. The wide, disturbing grin returned to his features and he turned around to Ronald. With one of his sharp, black nails he tipped at the page of the book Ronald held still opened in his hands. “You seem to have quite an interest in this book” he announced, back into his usually amused, blithe tone. “What to know what it tells?”

Stunned by Undertakers ability to switch so easily his mood between the always giggling, maniac mortician and the ancient, well-respected shinigami with millennia of knowledge, Ronald needed a moment to react. That was indeed eerie, but in a morbid was… mesmerizing.

“Ronald! Still there, my dear?” It took a while until Ronald remembered the question Undertaker had asked him. “Uhm… yeah! Yea- yes” Ronald stammered, inexplicably feeling caught. “Those characters are intriguing, yeah… I would really like to know what this book is about.”

“It’s about legends and myths. Mainly fairy tales” Undertaker explained crackling. “Hard to believe, don’t you think? That demons could enjoy something mawkish and modest like fairy tales.”

“Really that is!” Ronald shouted blankly and shook his head in disbelief. “Those brutal, heartless creatures? Thought, the only thing there are interested in are souls to snatch away and devour…” He paused when he realised something. “Hold it… _You’re_ interested in that stuff?”

“Ooooh!” Undertaker hunched in feigned pain and groaned sufferingly. “Ahn… you are hurting me!” In nothing flat he had snatched the book from Ronalds hands before the young reaper could even realise what was going on. He pressed the book with an exaggerated gesture to his chest, right where his heart would be, and began to sashay through the room. “Just because I’m deflected and my current occupation comprises the arranging and burying of corpses I mustn’t have a thing for fairy tales? Oh, little butterfly, you are so cruel!”

That was when Ronald couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. It was just too funny how Undertaker minced around with wide, fluttering clothes and overstated graceful movements, miming a mortally offended lady.

“Oh, why, just _why_ … can’t you see?” Undertaker purred and put his hand to his forehead tragically. “ _See_ and understand the profundity of my soul!”

Ronald had to steady himself with his hands at the bookshelf to not lose his balance, his body was shaken that fiercely it was painful. “Alright already!” Ronald laboriously yielded between panting breaths and brushed away some tears of laughter from his cheeks with trembling fingers. “Keep that and I’ll suffocate!”

“Now, we won’t have that, won’t we?” Undertaker grinned and pulled himself together. It wasn’t easy, he had already started to enjoy this little charade and felt himself getting carried away. But he could see that Ronald actually had troubles to keep himself up and an expression of pain had sneaked to his features.

The blond reaper staggered over to the couch while he tried to regain at least some composure and slumped down at the soft, cozy cushions. He huffed quietly but held his mouth shut. After a while he said, still a little breathless. “Heaves! That was quite an act! You could easily compete with Grell.“

Undertaker chuckled lowly, content that he had been able to amuse his “guest” and took a seat at the chair opposite to Ronald. While he adjusted his hat, which had been tilted during his little act, he opened the book at a random page.

“To answer your question from before, yes, I go for legends and fairy tales” he explained when both male recovered enough to continue their conversation. “Mainly because they amuse me and make me laugh. But they’re instructive as well. Though you can’t compare then to scientific tracts and studies there _is_ a certain truth underneath.”

“’A germ of truth is the core of every lie’, I see” Ronald nodded. Legends and fairy tales were formed after real occurrences, as well as the human myths had their origins in actual phenomenon displayed the try to explain what couldn’t be understand.

Grinning in delight Undertaker nodded too. “Looks like we share the same perception of it.” He placed the book at the desk in front of him and folded his hands under his chin. With his head tilted in anticipation he enquired “Interested in hearing some of those sorties?”

“Uhm… I think it couldn’t do any harm…”

Ronald didn’t know what he had expected form Undertaker. Maybe he had assumed that the silver-haired shinigami would give him a short summary of the tales. But certainly not, that Undertaker would grab the book and would actually _read_ to him!

As for Undertaker he himself didn’t know why he was doing this. He too didn’t know when the last time was, he read stories to someone… Well, yes, in actual fact he knew it just too well, remembered perfectly, who it was, though he tried his best not to think about it. Let’s just say… it was a couple of years ago. A long time for humans, nothing more than a blink for the immortal being he was.

When Ronald had get over his initial surprise, he noticed that Undertaker had a pleasant way of reading. His voice was smooth and tender, wasn’t akin to the velvet-like, silken voice of the demon which had reached Grell’s shortlist of “deadly handsome men”, was chasing after, rather resembling to cool, unruffled water. By the time Undertaker didn’t disguise his voice and spoke in the odd, high-pitched and crackling manner of the creepy mortician he seemed appreciably fewer alarming and disturbing.

Listening to him made Ronald feel something like calmness and safety, he could nothing but listen in fascination. After a while Ronald noticed that he was snuggling easily into the cushions of the couch. Soon his eyelids stated to shut with increasing insistence. He already wasn’t able to concentrate any longer at the content of the tale Undertaker was reading, just listening to Undertakers comfortable, smooth voice and his steady, controlled tone.

Time became a flowing, soothing stream to Undertaker while words he no longer thought about left his lips. He didn’t know how long he was reading. The feeling to finally read to someone after all the time that was lost, was pleasant… familiar. When he lifted his gaze a little later to look over to the blond, he noticed that his cute, little hostage had slumped down from his upright sitting position to a half lying, half hanging position, had troubles keeping his eyes open. The young male was obviously struggling against sleep.

For a brief moment Undertaker considered to wait for the younger reaper to finally loose against sleep, just so he could have the pleasure of carrying him to bed again. He quickly discarded the idea. Ronald certainly wouldn’t be all to happy and he was behaving thankworthy cooperative at the moment.

Quietly to not startle the young blond he closed the book and left it at the table. The he went over to Ronald, who’s eyelids had fallen shut again. He gently placed a hand at the reaper’s shoulder and used little pressure.

“Ronald?” he spoke lowly and gently. “Come now, dearie.” Slowly and tedious Ronald cracked his eyes open, blinking a few times before his glance became clear and he recognised Undertaker. “What…?” he mumbled faintly, not really conscious and nearly falling asleep again.

“You are tired, that’s obvious” Undertaker said friendly. “The bed is a more comfortable place to sleep, don’t you think so?”

“S-sure” Ronald agreed nodding idly and trying resultlessly to get up from the couch. Although he grumbled when Undertaker propped him up and put his arm around him to support the little blond, but he didn’t push him away.

“…c-can go alone…!” Ronald protested as he finally stood and Undertaker withdrawed almost instantly. He watched Ronald went to the door, slightly staggering but steady enough that there was no necessity for him to intervene. At the doorframe Ronald paused and supported himself at the dark wood of the doorframe. He looked at Undertaker over his shoulder.

“Where… will you sleep?” he inquired, his mind awake enough so his eyes could fixate Undertaker without troubles.

With his signature grin Undertaker nodded over to the black coffin at the wall, which had attracted Ronalds attention before. “In that… coffin?” Ronalds bewildered facial expression and his unbelieving tone made Undertaker chuckle.

“I’m used to sleeping in my own coffins. I fact, I prefer the cozy, comfy crave shrouded by robust wood over a normal, boring bed.”

“ _Cozy?_ ”

Undertaker giggled. “You would be astonished how comfortable a coffin actually is!”

Ronald turned away and attempted to leave but Undertaker retained him before he could enter the bedroom. “Sleep well, little one.”

Within the short glance, Ronald throw to Undertaker before he vanished into the other room, was surprise. The two lowly murmured words made Undertaker smirk. When the door closed behind the amusing blond the smirk was still craved at Undertakers face.

“… good night…”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes. English isn't my native tounge and this is my first english fanfiction. But I hope you still enjoyed it.


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